


Every Other Freckle

by spattergroit



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Musicians, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-28 23:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13282032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spattergroit/pseuds/spattergroit
Summary: In an attempt to get out of her break-up funk, Brienne decides to spend her summer living on the wild(ling) side.





	1. The Mating Call

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER:** Not my characters, just my idea.  
>  The inspiration behind the title can be found [here.](https://genius.com/Alt-j-every-other-freckle-lyrics) Alt-J is an awesome band and if you haven't listened to them you should check them out!
> 
> So, some notes: 
> 
> It's another alternate universe story. I've just decided that I'm going to be that author that gives you every AU trope of Brienne/Tormund, lol. I hope that you're ready for that. Tormund is a musician and Brienne is a graphic artist/history buff. It makes for some interesting research, I'll tell you that. This story was written for smut purposes only. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

* * *

 

Brienne Tarth's eyes scanned over the vinyl case, reading through the tracklist of songs and took a sip of wine from the glass Sansa poured for her. The original plan had been to wait until Margaery arrived from work and they ate dinner for drinks but when Sansa saw that Brienne had purchased two bottles on their liquor run earlier in the day, she felt no guilt in popping one open. And Brienne felt no guilt in drinking it.

 _Lone Wolf. Eastwatch. The Wall. Sheila the Bear._ She paused when she got to _Sheila the Bear_ and mouthed the title slowly. These two were definitely going to have to explain that one to her.

Sansa was in the kitchen fixing dinner for the three of them and Brienne could smell the roasted vegetables and cooking meat. Poor Margaery was still at work. There was some huge advertising campaign she had been working on since before Brienne had even planned the vacation with them and it was taking up most of her days lately. She had only just texted an hour ago that she was finally heading towards the [BART](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bay_Area_Rapid_Transit) and making her way home.

The best thing about visiting Sansa and Margaery on her annual summer vacations was all the glorious dinners they spoiled her with. Sansa was an amazing cook and Margaery could bake like no one's business. And there was never a dull moment with these two, even when they spent evenings on the couch watching television.

Considering this was her first vacation without her fiancé, she was going to make the best of this visit. They planned all sorts of excursions with her and she allowed them to dote over her on the phone before she arrived. She still remembered the conversation she had with them, calling to tell them about the engagement ending and how the house was extra lonely with him gone… but no, this vacation would not be meant for that.

Brienne would enjoy her vacation this time around as a single woman. To say that she needed this vacation was something of an understatement. It hadn't been her best year and with the changes that happened in her life on the eve of the new year, she was dying to get to her annual two-month break. She couldn’t just let five pointless years (she was being generous not counting the prior eight years where he played love tag with her until she _made_ him give her an ultimatum) in which she devoted her time, heart, and soul to a man that didn’t realize he was ready to live a life with someone **_thirteen_ ** _years into this relationship_ ruin every single thing else for her.

He had, after all, done enough.

She was going to have _fun_ and things would be _great_! There wasn't going to be any moping this summer. Absolutely not! Which was why she sat at the table with her black square glasses pushed up high on the bridge of her nose looking over The Wildlings' discography. Tonight after dinner, they were going to a show. It was Margaery's idea and since she'd gotten the tickets for free, Brienne just couldn’t say no. Margaery had worked hard for these tickets, or at least that’s what she had lead Brienne into believing when she begged her to join them over the phone.

Her only worry about going out to this concert were the San Francisco nights. The idea of going outside in that nighttime weather made Brienne bristle. Even though she had been visiting Sansa and Margaery every summer since they all graduated college, she just never got used to the chilly weather. They had only been trying to convince her to move to the city and live with them since forever.

" _Sh_ _eila the_ _Bear_?" She called out to Sansa and flipped the vinyl once more to get a closer glimpse at the cover. Really, Brienne couldn’t help taking notice to designs and images. She was a graphic designer and freelance artist, it was in her blood.

On the cover, there was an animated bear wearing a t-shirt with the name of the album on it: _Eastwatch_. If it was supposed to make her chuckle, it did. Friendly animated bears were always winners in her book.

The Bay Area was where The Wildlings originated so they were rock royalty but the band had also been known internationally as well. Sansa had been talking about them for ages. Even her ex was a fan and they lived in Austin, Texas. Still, Brienne reserved her musical tastes for all that synthesized, upbeat pop music. If she could dance to it, then she lived in it. So her opinions regarding The Wildlings were fairly limited.

"Oh, that’s literally a song about one of the women Tormund slept with. _Eastwatch_ is one of the early albums."

"Excuse me, so he compares the woman to a bear?"

Sansa opened her mouth to try and explain this comparison then paused when the door swung open and Margaery came rushing in, immediately shoving her trench coat off. There were dark spots sprinkled on her shoulders and arms while her hair showcased wet curls. She hung her trench on the coat rack and walked over to them.

"It's pouring down out! I really hope it doesn't stay that way the entire night."

"Well, it shouldn't be too bad and we're actually going to be inside a building tonight."

"I still can't believe you two talked me into going to this concert tonight. Thank god I’m not jetlagged."

Margaery laughed and tossed her brunette hair over her shoulder, "Well, it's not really a concert so much as it is a _show_. And don’t be dramatic, it’s a four hour flight that you've been taking for five years now."

Brienne made a face at her friend and she returned it with sticking out her tongue.

"Besides, we are not here to disappoint. Oh my god, The Wildlings give such a great show and you are going to _love_ Tormund!" Sansa said with a happy sigh.

Brienne looked between the two of them and narrowed her eyes. Sansa talked about Tormund’s live performances the way a mother spoke of their first born. All the hype surrounding him was making Brienne’s stubborn nature purposely push the excitement away so she looked unconvinced when Sansa brought him up again.

"What? He's fun! I would not lie to you. Listen, you will love this band. Especially Arya. She's so brooding. There's nothing sexier in the world than a mean woman. Am I right, Brienne?"

Brienne knew Margaery was intentionally teasing her but she ignored it. She wasn't mean! She was just ...more reserved than these two and there was nothing wrong with that.

Sansa scoffed, "I swear you find the sex appeal in anything."

Margaery pointed to her and nodded.

"So let's go back to this _Sheila the Bear_ song," Brienne held the vinyl up and tapped the animated bear on the cover.

Margaery laughed and poured herself a glass of wine. She was practically undressing at this point, slipping out of her heels and pulling off the sweater she wore.

"That song is about his ex-wife."

"How do we know this?" Sansa asked.

Margaery pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and began to swipe and press her thumbs to the screen, tapping so quickly that Brienne couldn't keep up. She handed the phone over to Brienne and her eyes scanned over the photos of Tormund and his wife. The woman was considerably older but her attention was focused mostly on Tormund.

Now Sansa and Margaery were going back and forth in a miniature debate about whether or not _Sheila the Bear_ was about Tormund’s wife.

“The song could literally be a metaphor for several of the women he's slept with and apparently, it's been a lot. Do you know how many groupie stories I’ve read on that forum? It could seriously be anyone!”

“Nobody’s out here writing songs about groupies.”

“Def Leppard literally has a song called _Getcha'_ _Rocks Off_ ,” Margaery stated with a calm confidence that made Sansa go quiet.

“Yes, but the song wasn’t about one specific groupie.

“Okay, well KISS has that one song about the lady that made plasters of rock stars’ penises,” Brienne chimed in. 

"Yes but that's a set job skill."

"You don't think sucking dick requires skill?" Margaery seemed affronted by this.

Their bickering voices eventually became background noise. She was still looking at photos of Tormund and couldn’t be bothered with Sansa and Margaery’s groupie debate. Wild red hair accompanied by an even redder beard were his most distinguishable looks. She was amazed at the natural ombré  of his ginger hair, from light red hues to a fiery bushel framing his face. He had expressive eyebrows and eyes that looked trusting if not a bit feral. She could see the appeal in him but he wasn't really _her_ type.

"Well let's listen to it then," Margaery was done arguing with Sansa. She stood from the table, took the vinyl from Brienne, and slipped the record from the case. She gingerly laid it on the record player and started it up.

A loud howl started and she blinked looking between Sansa and Margaery again, stunned, who both seemed to be very amused at her reaction to the beginning of the song.

"What song is this?" She asked over the bass guitar starting.

"It's called _Lone Wolf_."

Brienne nodded. Obviously, because of the howling...

While they ate dinner, Margaery and Sansa respectively complained about their jobs and terrible, incompetent bosses. Brienne listened and nodded sympathetically, internally thankful she was getting a break. She had the pleasure of spending eight stress free weeks away from overbearing clients, harsh deadlines, and an ex that needed to “find” himself.

But she wasn't going to think about that now, not him.

She was going to enjoy her two best girlfriends and listen to this ridiculous man howl and growl over rock music.

 _Sheila the Bear_ was a tawdry tail about a woman being soft and warm in her nether regions. The lyrics made her blush but Margaery was singing as loud as she could, even if it was off-key. Beautiful she may be but singing was definitely not her forte. She couldn't have it all, Brienne supposed.  

> _Sheila! Sheila!_
> 
> _My dear sweet pet_
> 
> _Tell me how you get so warm_
> 
> _So warm and so wet_

"You know," she said after they reached the fourth song, "they remind me of Led Zeppelin. I mean, they obviously aren't nearly as _good_ as Led Zeppelin but then again, who really is?"

By now, they were finishing the second bottle of wine and a hazy cloud of tipsiness floated between the three women.

"I hope we aren't driving," Brienne was downing the rest of her wine and devouring the homemade cheesecake created by Margaery.

"We're not driving and no, there aren't many bands as great as Led Zeppelin..." Sansa grabbed the plates and stacked them. "Now, everyone needs to change because we're leaving in an hour. The concert is starting at eight-thirty."

She took the plate of cheesecake crumbs from Brienne.

"I was eating that," Brienne pouted, licking the fork. She gasped in horror as Sansa walked over and took the fork, too.

Margaery smiled at her and folded her arms neatly on the table, "What are you wearing tonight?"

Brienne looked down at her white t-shirt and blue jeans, "I'm wearing this."

"No, you are not," Margaery stated matter-of-factly. "No friend of mine is going to see The Wildlings perform in that. I mean no offense, Brienne but honestly - you are beautiful and amazing and really, I just don't understand the point of those legs if you aren't showing them."

"There  _is_ no point! I don’t have to show off my legs everywhere I go just because I’m tall." Brienne laughed. "I know you, Margaery and I know what you'll pick out! Why would I need to go to this show dressed like… like…”

“Like you need to get laid,” Margaery finished.

Getting laid was the last thing on her mind. In fact, sex wasn't even something she factored into her life these days. And if it took showing off some leg to get that to happen, she was better off just not. Brienne was scandalized but Sansa was absolutely delighted. She giggled in glee and clapped her hands together, “Ooh, we should let her wear the red!"

"The red?" Brienne looked to Sansa with fear and confusion settling right in the center of her face.

She watched their thrilled expressions faces in horror. Her long fingers went in the air to signal they both stop.

“What on earth are you two witches cooking up?”

“You have to trust us!” Sansa narrowed eyes and pursed her lips. Brienne could tell she was already imagining what to do with her face. Her hands went from “STOP” to “SURRENDER.”

"Look, I said I was going to spend this vacation stepping out of my comfort zone so I will let you play makeover but I am begging you not to overdo this."

She focused her attention mostly on Margaery when she repeated in a whisper, " _I’m begging you_."

Margaery laughed and gave her a playful shove. After another glass of wine, however, she was letting them use her as their canvas. Being someone's muse was the most fun Brienne had in ages. Letting go of her own fears and insecurities was much easier to do when wine was her motivator and the artists in question were her best friends.

She had to admire Margaery and Sansa's handiwork. In just an hour's time, she had a full face of makeup and normally, this whole dark eyeliner and red lip thing would be something she would think ridiculous on her but she looked _great_ . She wore one of Margaery's many red dresses but as it was much too short for her to feel entirely comfortable enough to wear in public, she paired it with white shorts that belonged to Sansa underneath. They only covered a fourth of her thigh, a _fourth_ , and she had to physically hold Margaery back when she pulled them on. Did she honestly thought Brienne was going to walk around San Francisco with half her behind out?! She had to stop her mad scientist antics somewhere!

She was still unsure how Sansa managed to get her hair slicked down so evenly and carefully down on her head, with a perfectly styled curl on each side. This was the longest she had ever looked at herself in the mirror and been satisfied with everything about herself. Even through all the moments in her lifetime, and she could count them; that were spent playing dress up failed in comparison to the work these two had done tonight.

She remembered sadly how he loved when she wore red... No. She was not going to do this, not tonight. It had been six months since they broke off their engagement. It was time to move on, move forward from it. From _him_.

"We're walking with a fucking supermodel," Sansa said proudly. Brienne affirmed her statement with a confident nod.

And in the time it took them to get her dressed up, they were also standing next to her looking like a pair of models as well. Her walk was just a little different tonight and she found herself standing even taller than normal. Usually being the tallest person in the room meant Brienne tried her hardest not to stand out as much. Tonight, the city was being blessed by her presence. Shoulders back and chin up!

Both Margaery and Sansa said this to her each and every time they went out, whether it was at a bar or the movies. Tonight, she really felt it to be true.

On the way to the bar, Sansa requested their Uber driver play The Wildlings and Brienne was not surprised to discover that he too was a fan. There was no one in the Bay Area that _didn’t_ like them. While he shuffled through the tracklist, Brienne slipped her glasses off and carefully put in contacts that she hardly wore. They made her promise she would do it.

She smiled at Sansa and Margaery as they both sang along loudly while their Uber driver nodded his head in time with the beat. Halfway there, a familiar song did play and it made the tips of her ears burn.

 _Oathkeeper_. She knew the song, knew it very well. Ironically, in all her ignorance about The Wildlings that the one song she did know by them without the help of  her friends was the song her ex liked to sing or whistle when he would step out of the shower. Great. Fantastic.

"Oh no, not that one, _please_!" Sansa shouted over the music. "We're not very fond of that one, it's a little too, you know..." she struggled with the right words, "we want to have fun!" She finished, looking at Brienne from the corner of her eyes.

"It's okay and I'm okay," Brienne assured them both. They were now looking at her with the thing she hated most in the world. Sympathy.

"We're having fun and we're not thinking about any of that tonight!"

And they weren't.

By the time they arrived to the bar where The Wildlings would be playing, Brienne had developed a fondness for them. Even though she wanted to see some of their live performances, both women refused to let her watch any YouTube videos of them. They both said that she needed to get Tormund’s rawness that came with the live shows. Anticipation filled her with each awaiting moment.

What she learned so far about the other members was that Arya played the bass and sang background vocals, Jon played electric guitar while occasionally singing solos and also joined Arya with background vocals. Sansa and Margaery both dedicated thirty minutes to his beauty. Gendry played drums and was also dating Arya. Hot Pie played keyboard and the acoustic guitar on occasion.

Maybe Margaery and Sansa’s own infatuation had rubbed off on her because she couldn’t deny the nervous excitement at seeing them perform now.

By the time they arrived to the club, called _The Wall_ , the lingering effect of the wine had since worn off so the shots they took together before the actual performance was what Sansa liked to call: performance enjoyment enhancers. Not that Brienne needed them but she downed two more, cheering to risks or was it crisps? She couldn't actually remember! A plan to build her alcohol tolerance over the summer commenced among the trio, too.

The entire club smelled of mingled colognes, perfumes, and marijuana. She was ready for the band and hoped they would perform her new favorite song by them: _Winterfell_ . She secretly enjoyed the love songs and rock ballads they performed. Tormund’s raspy vocals could lull a baby to sleep over Jon’s electric guitar. _Winterfell_ was a little different from the other songs, it was of a fusion of blues and rock that made Brienne want to sit in her backyard with a glass of wine and her sketchbook.

“We should go stand over here, yeah?” Brienne was leading the women to the right of the stage.

“Why?” Sansa whined, “We’ll be off center and I don’t want to miss _anything_.”

“Because," she paused and gave a one handed once over to herself, "if I stand in the center I’m going to block people’s view. It’s rude.”

They considered it and even fought her on it but eventually joined her to the side. Even if she was just wearing her sandals, nobody was going to top her height in this building. Eventually, the place became crowded and though she was tall and was on the receiving end of quite a few glances or stares, she ended up fading into the crowd just like everyone else.

Not soon after, the room went dark and everyone around them began to cheer loudly, as well as Sansa and Margaery. Brienne stayed silent, blinking her eyes in the darkness. An excitement pooled in her stomach at the thought of seeing a live band and she wanted to soak in this amazing moment.

" _OOOOOOWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!"

Tormund’s howl filled the room and the crowd only grew louder. Slightly startled at the sound of an electric guitar ripping through the air, Brienne's eyes went wide.

"Oh my _gooooood_ ," Margaery moaned so loudly she could be heard through the cheers when Jon came on stage playing guitar, his dark hair pulled into a messy top bun. He was as unnaturally handsome as they said he was with an all too perfect brooding expression on his face.

Brienne could definitely see why a lot of the men and women in the crowd seemed to melt at the sight of him. To be fair, she wouldn’t have kicked him out of her bed given the opportunity either.

The small stage lit up once more and Arya appeared next, playing her bass as if there were better things in the world for her to do. She made it look so easy! Margaery was right, her uncaring expression _was_ appealing. Her smart bob swung as her fingers moved maniacally fast on her guitar and Sansa let out a loud, " ** _WOOO_ ** " cheering her on as loud as she could. Arya's face tightened even deeper into a frown and she really let that bass guitar have it. It amazed Brienne how someone so small could pack so much power into their fingers.

The keyboards played some funkadelic tune and a portly man with a head full of curls that looked soft to the touch appeared, a smile on his face. He looked out to the crowd and pointed receiving an uproarious cheer. He wore a t-shirt with a large steaming pie that bore a grin on it.

When the drums started, everyone in the crowd lost their minds. Gendry appeared with a scowl to match Arya's. Those two with their similar expressions explained in very great if brief detail why they were dating. He was handsome and sported a buzzcut that reminded her of Ewan McGregor in _Trainspotting_. He banged on the drums like this was a craft he’d known his entire life.

The music was so loud, the bass was so heavy, and the pound of the drums seemed to travel through her body like one great electric charge.

And then there was another howl.

" _OOOOOWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!"

The band came to an abrupt stop and the room went dark again.

"We're The Wildlings," he growled into the microphone and when the lights filled the room, Tormund stood front and center. One long, chiseled arm was lifted in the air with his hand balled into a fist. In the photos Margaery had shown her, his hair had been shorter and more styled. Now his ginger mane was even more unkempt, messy and scruffy. His beard was shaggier than before, too. She was feeling ...things about this new information and she had no idea where they came from. He wore a white t-shirt and black faded jeans. Brienne would never admit to Sansa or Margaery (definitely not Margaery) but seeing him standing there with the microphone in his hand and the mischievous glint in his eye was beyond appealing.

It was just downright sexy.

All those photos that she looked at on Margaery's phone did not do him any justice. Fair enough, she preferred the clean-cut, close shaven type but there was an animalistic magnetism to him that intrigued her. In other words, she would not mind going to that place.

He looked over his shoulder at Jon and with a nod of his head, the show began.

Tormund strutted around the stage with the confidence of a thousand men, pumping his fist and singing with the microphone so close to his lips, she thought he would eat it. His guttural baritone brought a raw sex appeal to the songs that she decided was for the better.

He truly was a wild one. Even when he took to the background to play guitar while Jon would sing, she could not keep her eyes off him. She had no intentions of ever taking her eyes away from him. He would dramatically flip his flamed hair, strumming his fingers wildly on the guitar. She could feel herself being pulled closer and closer to his web of onstage presence the longer he performed.

Their set consisted of ten songs and by the end of the show, Brienne's hair was no longer slicked down with Sansa's miraculous gel work but her very own perspiration. Her makeup was likely ruined but god, she could not be bothered to care. This show had her feeling alive - rejuvenated, like she had missed something in her life she didn’t have before.

She was promised by the girls that the makeup was waterproof because in this crowded space with all these bodies, jumping and dancing along to the music she was completely drenched. But she wasn't the only one. Everyone in The Wildlings were soaking wet like they were caught in the earlier rainstorm. Tormund's shirt clung to him and his jeans had wet handprints on them.

"We love you San Francisco! _**WE FUCKING LOVE YOU**_!"

When he threw his arm in the air and everyone in the venue screamed, even Brienne cheered. Margaery was shouting that she loved them right back.

He walked over to Arya and nodded his head. Jon shook his head with laughter while Arya's face set in a deep scowl.

"You know, we don't often do covers but sometimes there's just a moment when you see someone special and you can't help yourself. You guys know me, I'm an animal." He turned back to the crowd and they all joined in laughter together. Even his laughter sent a small shiver up her spine.

Everyone around Brienne shouted their praises.

"Oh my god, he's going to do it!" Sansa said excitedly.

"Do what?" Brienne leaned in to her to ask, still looking at the stage.

"The Mating Call!"

"What’s _The Mating Call_?"

"It's when he sings to a woman in the audience."

"You're not serious," she looked at Sansa who was in fact looking very serious. How had they not told her about this and what exactly did _The Mating Call_ consist of? Did he just sing to a woman in the audience that he found attractive or was it actually a mating call?

"And...?" She needed answers.

"Oh, Brienne. It just means that he's noticed some woman in the audience that he wants to ...mate with. Or, I guess you could say fuck. I don't know. I told you, he's a Wildling! They do _wild things_!" Margaery said it so casually, Brienne couldn't help but look at her like she had grown three heads.

He howled like a wolf and turned back to the crowd as Jon started the tune. Arya joined in with him, playing bass and Gendry followed soon after. This song sounded oddly familiar.

"Who's that I see walking in these woods? Why, it's Little Red Riding Hood!"

Yes, she knew this song. _Lil’ Red Riding Hood_ , a classic rock song about a man with underlying sexual intentions and plans to feast upon the unsuspecting young woman he was singing to. This was a perfect song to base a “mating call” around. She laughed to herself at the silliness of it.

And then, quite obviously, Tormund turned to the audience and looked directly at her, a slow smirk came on his lips. She looked over her shoulder then turned back to him.

He wasn't... but he was. He definitely was.

The floor could always do its proper job and swallow her whole now.

Brienne's heart skipped a beat and she watched him perform, suddenly unable to move or sway to the music, or just anything at all. There was no way he was actually looking at her while he sang this song? With a nod of his head, he kept his eyes on her. To her own surprise, she didn't turn away from him either.

He winked and her stomach dipped like she was taking that first lunge on a rollercoaster. Still, she kept her eyes locked with his.

> _Hey there little red riding hood_
> 
> _You sure are looking good_
> 
> _You're everything a big bad wolf could want_

Then of course, he had to point to her. 

>   _Listen to me_!

Sansa noticed first. Her head turned upwards in Brienne's direction then she looked back to the stage. Margaery came in at a close second. Brienne could pay attention to neither of them. In this room, there was very little else to pay attention to, save for the man on the stage pointing to her. He was looking at her while he sang a song about being the big bad wolf to her little red riding hood... he wanted to devour her.

She wanted him to?

Then to make matters all the more worse, he walked over to her side of the stage to get a closer look at her. He seemed satisfied with whatever he saw because he only smiled at her more. He crouched down and narrowed his eyes at her then licked his lips. That was the straw that broke. She looked away and rubbed the back of her neck.

And now everyone was looking her direction. She could have died on the spot and it still wouldn’t have saved her from embarrassment.

What on earth was he doing?

 _Why_ was he doing it?

Was she really the object of his desire?

Well, she was the tallest person in here and she was wearing a red top. She was sure with her height she was sticking out like a sore thumb to him. Sansa and Margaery were jumping up and down squealing at the top of their lungs like two school girls. Her heart was picking up speed and she felt much hotter than she already was in this tight, crowded space.

By the time she turned back to him, he had pulled his attention away from her and started pointing to others in the crowd. She was, needless to say, very relieved that he focused on other people now. Most of them were women and for a moment, in that little nugget that sat in the farthest corner in the back of her mind she was maybe just a little ... _disappointed_.

They were at a concert obviously and she knew how musicians were. She'd seen Beyoncé and Lady Gaga at least a million times in concert and they too had their own way of making certain people in the crowd feel very special. It was silly to think that he was only singing to _her_. And who even was she exactly? She wasn't anyone special.  

> _Little Red Riding Hood_
> 
> _You sure are looking good_
> 
> _You're everything that a big bad wolf could want!_

By now, she was slapping at Sansa and Margaery as they fawned over her. That was enough attention for the night, thank you very much. And then, because men were assholes:

"I'm talking to you, _Legs_!"

And he gave her one last look with another wink before the room went dark again.

Brienne nearly choked. So fine, the earth wasn't going to swallow her whole. Taking matters into her own hands, she shuffled her way through the crowd before those lights could come back on and with those _legs_ of hers, she was halfway to the door before Margaery and Sansa could catch up with her.


	2. The Bing On Your Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the concert, Tormund and Brienne meet again. By chance. Or is it by fate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a brief introduction to Brienne in the first chapter and now we get Tormund's - all from his point of view. I really hope I served his voice some justice and that you will enjoy. Now Tormund, being a musician has a few vices and a bit of past. His biggest vice? Women! (Which, I can't blame him because women are amazing.) The language in this chapter is pretty explicit and I just want to forewarn y'all. It's a bunch of friends just shooting the breeze with each other. Thank you for the reviews and kudos. More to come!

There would be nothing greater in the world for Tormund Gianstbane than performing live with his band mates in front of an excited crowd. He started this band many years ago with his best friend Jon Snow.

Though the pair had been playing music together at small gigs here and there, a band hadn’t been formed until their mid-twenties. All those years spent playing guitar in the garage of Jon's parents would surely go to waste if they didn't try and pursue something serious. Sometimes it just took a little motivation to get a person going. They were both miserable at their jobs and learned very early on that adulthood had been the ultimate scam. When his boss told him it was either cut the hair or find another job, he decided exactly what to do with himself. And thus became the creation of The Wildlings.

Jon brought on Gendry, whose father Davos owned a bar where they could play. Then, one of the kids that lived in The Mission District showed off her amazing bass guitar skills some ten years later and Arya was soon a member, too, replacing Jon as the original bassist. They then met Hot Pie through Arya and everything just fell into place for them after that.

This band was the best thing that happened to him and the little family that came from it was even better. The Wildlings weren’t just a band, they had become something like a family too.

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed the soaked garment the moment he arrived backstage. The space in this dive was so small that he couldn’t help but bump elbows with every single one of his band mates while they cleaned and locked up their instruments.

"Are we still going to  _The Onion Knight_?" Hot Pie closed his keyboard with a loud click.

"Yes, we absolutely fuckin' are!" He held his hand out to Arya and caught the towel she tossed at him. "We're celebrating our break and these two idiots' engagement!" Tormund motioned to both Arya and Gendry.

The pair of them had been dancing around feelings for two years and dating for one. It was about time Gendry made the right decision. Arya was a piece of work but if anyone knew how to handle her moods, it was him. And nobody knew how to bring Gendry down from a fighting mood better than Arya. And if push ever came to shove, those two could brood and fight together like the insane motherfuckers they were.

"I keep telling him you gotta' be a mad fucker to marry Arya but here we are!" Tormund teased, pointing in Arya's direction.

"Oh, fuck off!" Arya retorted but she laughed as she said it.

Tormund looked to Sandor or The Hound as he was better known, the band's bodyguard but mostly the person that stopped them from getting into drunken fights with strangers and motioned for him to come over.

"Do me a favor and see if Little Red Riding Hood is still out there."

If looks could kill, the daggers The Hound shot with his eyes would have easily killed him. In fact, everyone in this band would be dead with the exception of their darling Arya.

"I don't go and fetch pussy for you, you cunt."

Tormund laughed and clapped the larger man on the back, "That's allyou do, my friend."

The Hound sighed loudly and grumbled something about finding a better paying job for a better singing musician and left. Tormund watched him leave with a grin on his face. He pat himself dry with the towel and then placed it on his head, smoothing it over his hair. Everyone was wiping the sweat from their bodies and cleaning themselves as best as this small backstage area would allow.

He walked over to the one sink they were forced to share and turned it on, letting the water fill his palms and splash his face.

"She's gone," The Hound came back, frowning at Tormund, "Either you scared her off or she's smart enough to know not to be bothered with a piece of shit like you."

"Nah," he grabbed a t-shirt from a pile of clothes and pulled it open. Too small.

"Snow, a shirt for you."

He threw it to Jon and watched as Jon pulled it open, "This is Arya's!"

"I'm trying to find the difference?" Tormund perked his eyebrows and held his arms open.

There was more laughter and everyone took their packed instruments to their bus. Everyone was in much higher spirits knowing they would be getting the opportunity to sleep a full night’s sleep in their own beds in their own homes. Five months of non stop touring could take its toll on man, physically and emotionally. He never ate healthy when he toured and he swore his stomach always got just a little bit rounder with each tour.

The real shame was that he wouldn't be spending it with that lovely creature he spotted in the audience.

"What's taking you chumps so long? Get dressed!" Jon had already changed and was pushing a pair of black rimmed glasses on his face.

"I do hate how pretty you are," Hot Pie was wearing another shirt with their Wildling logo, the dancing animated bear, on it.

"Prettier than me own dear departed mummy," Tormund teased.

"Oh, ha-ha," Jon shook his head and put his arm around Gendry's shoulder as they left out.

The room went quiet for a moment and then Jon shook his head, “I can’t stop thinking about Oathkeeper. Remember that one lady in Milwaukee that kept shouting for us to play it. I’m so sick of it.”

 _Oathkeeper_ had been their most popular song. Everyone enjoyed a good love song even if it was Arya's least favorite.

" _Oathkeepaaaaah_!" Arya sung jokingly, "  _will I ever get that stupid song from my miiinnnnndddd. Oh Oathkeepaaaah, I truly hate you all the tiiiimmmeeeee_."

Tormund laughed at her and ruffled the top of her head. She gave his arm a rough shove. Hot Pie rubbed his chin and looked at Tormund, the original writer of the song with a pensive expression.

"I still think I should make the  _Oathkeeper_ rock opera. Two star crossed lovers, fighting to survive on a desolate planet. They hate each other at first, then they bond, and boom. Fireworks. Literal fireworks when they have sex."

Tormund looked at Hot Pie with an impressed expression, "You really thought that through, eh?"

Hot Pie nodded proudly, "I like the idea of a female warrior crossing paths with-"

"Well I think it's shit."

Everyone looked over their shoulders to see The Hound bringing in the rear. As usual, he was being their resident grump. Nobody really knew how he officially ended up being their bodyguard but the first time he met Tormund, he saved him from getting his ass kicked by three angry men that were all much larger than him.

He’d called Tormund a “stupid fucker” and the rest, as they say, was history.

His friendship with Tormund had been long standing. Sandor mostly tolerated others but Tormund had known that he took to Arya immediately. She was just so damn tiny and cute. And mean, which in turn made her all the more adorable.

"You think everything's shit," Arya remarked. "Well I think  _you're_ shit."

Naturally, Arya was just a dash meaner than him.

"And you're a  _little_ shit," Sandor retorted.

"Ladies  _please_ ," Tormund did a mock 'simmer down' motion with his hands, "at least get some fucking liquor in your system so that you can fight with a purpose."

"It's no drinking for me while I'm on the job and you know that," The Hound fussed at him.

"We're officially on our hiatus so therefore, you are not _on the job_. We got money in the bank, an engagement to celebrate, and livers to destroy!"

Jon looked at Tormund with an expression of disbelief, "No girls tonight?"

"Oh no, my friend, the only mistress I'm interested in is sleep!"

Jon looked unconvinced. It had been no secret to anyone that Tormund used being the lead singer to his advantage when it came to charming women - or “being a whore” as Gendry liked to eloquently say about him, into his bed. He'd known about his rumored activities as a lothario and really, he wasn't  _that_ bad. Unlike some other men, he made sure the woman got one off with him in any case. Just because it was  _several_ women, well, that didn't matter anyway.

"You see, my lady in waiting decided she was not ready for the howl and that is a sign if ever there was one."

"Did you see how  _tall_ she was?" Hot Pie said it admirably. “I wouldn’t stop her from stepping on me. I’ll be honest.”

Tormund laughed loudly at that.

“Get your own woman, you little snipe. If I see her, she’s mine.” Her jerked his thumb towards his chest.

The Hound shook his head, "How is it that your dick hasn't fallen off yet? Also, how is it that you always seem to go for the ones that look like they could kill you."

"In your sleep," Gendry added.

"While awake," Hot Pie stated.

"In a fight," Jon, Gendry, and Arya said in unison.

The Hound tipped his head at him as if to say:  _See, I'm not the only one that thinks you're insane_!

He did not deny this. What he liked was a strong woman that could stand up for herself when the going got tough. And if need be, could stand beside him as well. But he wasn't actually  _looking_ for a wife. Oh no, not with this working schedule. What he needed was a good lay. And with legs that long, there were many things he could think of doing with them.

But it was too late now and she had gone. There would be no mating call tonight.

"We're walking?" Jon asked.

It seemed as though they already were. This was just something they had always done and The Wildlings were creatures of habit. After their show in San Francisco, they walked to  _The Onion Knight_.

It was Davos' pride and joy, obviously coming in at a close second to Gendry.

 _The Onion Knight_ wasn't too far from  _The Wall_. They turned a corner and went up one of the steep San Francisco streets and then crossed at the light, landing right in front of the bar. Davos really should have titled his bar "Hole in the Wall" because after the great gentrification game that came upon the unsuspecting residents of The Mission District, Davos' bar looked like a dirty spot on their new and shiny white blanket of invasion.

They were never going to get rid of him though. He was far too stubborn of a bastard and the only bar in the area that didn't water down the drinks.

It was their tradition to venture into  _The Onion Knight_ when they ended their tour at  _The Wall_. When they walked into the dimly lit spot, red lights flashing on their faces, they were met to the sound of an uproar of applause. Arya always complained that she hated the attention but never complained when they didn't have to buy their own drinks.

Davos loved them dearly but every single one of them had a tab.

Tormund was at least ten thousand dollars in debt.

With his arms in the air, he led the way inside, the rest of the band members following behind him. Gendry and Arya were walking side by side with her arm around his waist and his arm over her shoulder. Young love was his fucking favorite.

"Sir Davos!" Tormund said loudly, carefully ignoring the admiring looks two young ladies on the other end of the bar gave him. He could have willingly handled one lady tonight but two would have surely given him a heart attack.

The man sported the same haircut as Gendry, only it was slightly more gray and he had a styled fully gray beard. Resting on his shoulder was a neatly folded white towel.

"How was the show?"

"It was  _really_ good," Arya climbed atop a bar stool, sitting with her legs wide and the palms of her hands flat on the torn leather cushion of the stool. “We played a small set, did a few adlibs, they loved it!”

"That's great to hear, Little One!"

“Little One? Are we still doing that?” Arya and Davos went back and forth with playful banter.

Tormund looked around with a frown. Someone was missing from their group. Jon had probably ducked into the little back area to have a smoke and call Ygritte. Those two were constantly going back and forth with their relationship. He was expecting another engagement announcement or at least a baby from these two pretty soon.

“So we’re celebrating a successful tour run then?”

Davos began lining up shot glasses for all of them. He paused when he got to Sandor who made a face at him, one of those knowing ‘you better not fucking do it’ faces but the older man ignored it and sat the shot glass in front of him.

"And we're celebrating idiots in love!" Tormund exclaimed. He slapped Gendry so hard on the back, the man almost fell from his stool.

Davos looked around and then perked an eyebrow.

"Jon's out back on the phone with his girlfriend, no doubt?"

He nodded in response. Davos poured whiskey into their shot glasses, teasing Arya by pouring the smallest amount for her. She reached over and slapped him on his arm while Gendry barked with laughter.

When he looked to his left, those two ladies that had been eyeing him when he walked in were still sitting there with smirks on their faces. As appealing as they were and they  _were_ , he couldn't shake the slightly off-putting feeling of that woman in the crowd. Why did he feel slightly rejected?

Because it  _was_ a rejection.

No one had ever actually rejected his Mating Call advances before. They were ridiculous but the crowd loved it, women loved them! Though it didn’t upset him, it was a strange feeling. What it did do was pique his interest more than anything. The odds of ever seeing her again were so incredibly slim that he shouldn’t even dwell on it.

"What did I miss?" Jon came back into the bar, not even noticing the way women swooned over him as he walked past.

"Nothing, actually. Davos here is about to get us proper drunk!"

Hot Pie was practically pissing himself with joy. He was going to get drunk and probably go after the two women that were giving Tormund the eye earlier. At least one of them would be getting laid tonight, not counting Gendry and Arya of course.

Three feminine voices behind him were engaged in a serious conversation about alcohol intake. He started to listen.

"I'm not taking another shot! I can respectively say that I think between the the three of us, we've had enough!"

He started to chuckle.

"Why did you bring me to a bar after a concert? It's nearly one in the morning!"

"Oh my god, don't be so square!" One of her friends was protesting. "You never, ever want to stay out late! You said you were going to let us be your guide this summer."

"I'm not so sure that was a wise idea."

This was followed by loud laughter.

He had to see, just for curiosity's sake, who the uptight girlfriend was. Slowly turning, Tormund was delighted to see it was Little Red Riding Hood.

Some things were just meant to be.

She was still too busy fussing at the brunette friend but the redhead was looking up at him with sparkling blue eyes and a pretty smile.

"Legs!" He proclaimed and waited for her to look in his direction.

Slowly, those beautiful eyes - the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen, raked over his top half until they met his face. Behind him, Davos was yelling at The Hound not to fuck with the tap. Over their heads, Aerosmith played. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that everything about this encounter was poetic. And if he didn’t get this woman in his bed he would surely regret it.

So at the very least, he could try.

She blinked and then looked back down to her drink. She played around with the swizzle stick in her drink, avoiding his eyes. He didn’t want to frighten her off but she really ignited something inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He grabbed an unused chair and turned it backwards, straddling his long legs over it and crossing his arms over the top. Her eyes snapped up to watch him straddle the chair and he saw them linger on his legs, maybe his thighs… Feeling like a fisherman on a lucky day, he confidently lowered himself on the chair.

"Hope you don't mind me sitting with you beautiful ladies," he said in his best casual voice.

And lord, were they beautiful. All three looked completely different. A redhead. Brunette. And of course, the blonde.

"Absolutely  _not_ ," the brunette was saucy. He could tell. She demurely cut her eyes at him and pursed her glossy pink lips. A natural flirt. He liked that. But his eyes, in the current moment was on the blond. The shy one.

"My name's Tormund."

"We know your name," Legs responded and giving her very best unimpressed response. If she thought that was pushing him away, she couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, it only drove him crazier.

_Yes, act like you don't give a fuck about me. Torture me._

The challenge in a woman like Legs was a great one. Reminded him of his first wife, a marriage that he had completely destroyed with his own doing. Young, dumb, and not quite used to the outpouring attention had been Tormund’s excuse when she confronted him. But really, he was just an young idiot that couldn’t tell his mouth from his asshole. Thankfully he was older and only slightly wiser...

"Well since you know  _my_ name already," he pointed to himself, "why don't you share yours?"

The saucy one spoke up and pointed to her chest, "I'm Margaery. This is Sansa," the redhead with those ridiculous eyes, "and  _this_ is Brienne."

"Not  _Legs_ ," she chided under her breath.

Steven Tyler was singing about pink getting him high as a kite. He wanted to spread her on a bed and find the pinkest part of her… The damn woman didn't even know what she was doing to him. A slow smile spread on his lips and he trailed a finger over the table.

"Would  _you_ like a drink?"

She locked eyes with him and those red lips parted slightly. He was going to kiss those lips before they parted ways. Before she could answer, her friends spoke up for her.

"Yes! Thank you!" Sansa was the one that spoke first.

"It would be my absolute honor to take care of your drinks for the rest of the night. It’s all on me! No worries."

Brienne clenched her jaw and the gesture made him laugh.

"Come on let's order our drinks," Margaery took Sansa by the hand and both women headed to the bar, leaving him and Brienne alone. Her eyes widened when both friends got up and walked off but she didn’t bother to join them. Surely, that was a good sign.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

It took a moment for her answer but she eventually nodded her head and a small smile played at the corner of her lips. His next mission after the kiss would be to get a full toothed smile from her.

"This is my first time watching you perform live. I hadn’t even heard most of your songs before.”

"Most?" Tormund gave her his full attention, resting his elbow on the top of the chair and placing his cheek in his hand.

"I only knew  _Oathkeeper._ Didn't even know you guys were the ones that sang that song."

"Well then you can be honest with me. My feelings won’t be  _too_ hurt if you didn’t enjoy the show. Only a little though.”

Tormund held up his fingers to indicate a small space between them. He followed it with a sad face that got another one of those small smiles from her. Truth was, he knew she enjoyed the show because he saw her while he was performing. She came in reluctant at first but once she started, her body swayed to the music just like everyone else. He wanted to know what else those hips could do. And those legs. And lips. How would she look when he thrust inside her?

"I loved it," she looked him in the eyes as she answered.

"Well I'm glad you did. I hope you weren't too angry at me pointing you out. You were-” he corrected himself, “you  _are_ the most amazing woman I've ever laid eyes on. I had to let you know. I really meant no offense."

"You didn't really offend me!" She replied quickly, her face turning into a frown.

"You were gone... I looked for you." He didn't hide the disappointment in his voice.

Emotional vulnerability was always on his side when it came to women.

She shook her head and shrugged, "I don't know why you care so much whether I took offense or not. There are plenty of women in here that caught your eye, too." She didn't say it like she was hurt or even upset, she was just stating a fact to him.

"I don't care about any other woman though."

The two looked at each other in silence for a moment. He leaned forward and grabbed her cell phone from its resting spot. She protested but her hands fell back to the table and he was pleased to find there was no lock code on it. He went into her contacts, entered his information, and handed the phone back to her.

"Milady," he bowed his head and pulled up from the chair, "whenever you're ready."

He turned away from her and headed back to the bar where he was greeted with the curses and cries of his comrades. Smugly, he sat down on the stool and grabbed the small drink sitting in front of Gendry and tossed it back in one gulp. She was his, knew he had her the moment he turned to see her sitting and arguing with her girlfriends.

"You ridiculous son of a bitch, I can't believe you skipped out on our cheers to get laid!" It was Gendry that said this. His voice was jovial and full of good nature.

Tormund laughed, refusing to argue because he knew that absolutely was the truth. He motioned for Davos to bring him a drink to salute and the man followed suit. To his right, Sandor held on to a bottle of beer shaking his head at Tormund.

Once he was handed his beer, he turned to his band mates and grinned.

"To the Idiots In Love!" He motioned to Arya and Gendry. They cheered him on and he tossed the beer back. He downed it in great gulps, never moving it from his lips and getting it on his beard and splotches of it on his shirt. He could hear Hot Pie’s loud cheers as his Adam’s Apple moved up and down to down the beer.

"Fuck, I just changed into this!" He said with a laugh and they all joined in with him. They all joked and laughed loudly, enjoying the free drinks from the patrons of  _The Onion Knight_. Every single one of them, Sandor included, ignored Davos’ loud claims of their growing tab.

“So, did you get her phone number?”

Jon moved sat next to him when Arya and Gendry pulled away from their collective stools and walked down the hallway that lead to the back alley where Jon was just, no doubt, confessing his love to Ygritte via phone. Tormund looked over his shoulder at the exiting pair.

“Do you think they fuck in that alley back there?”

“Are you serious? It’s disgusting back there,” Jon scoffed.

“I'm pretty sure I've fucked back there.”

“At this point, where haven’t you fucked is the true question.”

Tormund glared at Jon and the man looked down at his drink and laughed. He wasn’t that bad, was he? Well, he probably was but that was besides the point.

“And no I didn’t get her number,” Tormund went on, “I gave her mine. Took her phone and slipped it right in. I’m not worried though. It’s like…” he went silent and threw his hand forward like he had a fishing pole and pulled it back, reeling his imaginary fish in.

Jon shook his head.

“Dare I ask about your fish?”

Jon didn’t speak much about Ygritte. He didn’t talk much about anything but they had known each other since they were literal children. It was his body language that gave it away. Tonight, he was relaxed and playing with the rim of his glass. That was Ygritte language for “things are just peachy keen” and it was a relieving feeling for Tormund. Jon wanted the simple things in life, happiness and quiet. Being a musician in a band limited that to nearly nothing most times. With Ygritte, he could be who he wanted in peace.

Not everyone was lucky to get that in life, so it was appreciated when it came around. He watched in silence as his friend looked down at his buzzing phone and sparked up a text message conversation with his lady.

“Just get fucking married already,” Tormund teased him.

Within an hour's time his own phone buzzed and he was smiling before he pulled it from his back pocket to see the unknown number that sent the message: 

 

 **_Your place_ ** **?**

 

Tormund looked over his shoulder to discover the three ladies had since left.

"Well, my good people, I'm off. I'm done for the fucking night and I hope you all don't get too drunk that you can't walk home."

It seemed like Hot Pie was already at that point. Arya and Gendry would stay behind to help Davos clean up the bar, when they were done fucking out back that was. Sandor had since gone because that's what happens with mean old fucks like him.

"Leaving so soon?" Davos asked, the knowing expression there.

"Yes, man. I need sleep."

"And you're sure it's sleep you're getting tonight?"

"I hope not!" Tormund laughed and lifted up from the stool. He and Jon hugged and said goodnight to each other then he said his goodbyes to everyone else. He looked to the left and chuckled. As predicted, Hot Pie had stolen his admirers away from him.

Stepping out of the smoke filled bar into the fresh, crisp air alerted his senses. The beer had given him a happy buzz and the text message had given him a happily growing erection. He looked to his right and spotted her standing with her friends, looking every bit of an angel in the moonlight. He held his arm out to her and she walked over slowly.

Legs.


	3. Lovers In A Backseat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Never in her life had she ever done anything like this... but here she was climbing into the backseat of a taxi with a musician to have a one night stand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like that chapter title speaks for itself. Thank you for the reviews, kudos, and bookmarking!

She wasn't sure what the deciding factor was. Was it the way he sat at the table, straddling it with a cockiness that he surely knew how to back it up? His smile, twinkling in the room despite the dim lighting? How he looked her in her eyes as she spoke, letting her know she was the only person in the room? The way he confidently gave her his phone number, assuring her that it was completely up to her how this night ended? Or was it a mixture of all that?

No, she wasn’t well versed in the ministry of flings or one night stands but as far as this one went, Brienne was more than aware that she could handle this. Besides, wasn’t it she who declared that she would be spending her summer getting over whatever damages her ex had left behind?

Brienne didn't  know and when Sansa and Margaery returned with their drinks, she decided she didn't really care. Not once did he turn back to look at her. She craved more attention from him but she was thankful he didn’t turn around. She didn’t need that. They sat at the table across from her and waited expectantly for her to say something.

Sansa decided she was taking too long. She pushed Brienne’s drink in front of her and slapped a hand on the table.

"What did he say?”

She bit down on her bottom lip and looked between her best friends.

"Not a lot. He just gave me his phone number." She shrugged and casually tapped her fingers on the table top.

"Unreal!" Margaery laughed and took a sip of her drink. Brienne worked very hard to keep as cool as she could.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Sansa’s voice quivered with excitement as her eyes went wide.

Brienne shook her head and showed them both the new contact. Both women laughed at the sight of Tormund’s name and a wolf emoji next to it.

"So, what are you going to do?" Sansa asked, ignoring Margaery's chattering.

She was going to text him, is what she was going to do. Brienne Tarth was going to text Tormund Giantsbane, lead singer of The Wildlings and go to his place. They would engage in copious amounts of sexual activity and she may live to tell the tale.

“Brienne?” Sansa’s perfectly arched eyebrows lifted and Margaery leaned back in her chair to cross one leg over the other, expectantly.

“Obviously, she’s going to fuck him.”

“Brienne would never,” Sansa seemed absolutely scandalized by the notion.

“Okay but this isn’t Brienne, this is _Legs_.”

Margaery waved a hand in her direction and nodded. Truth be told, they were both becoming background noise. She lifted her head and watched as he held his pint in the air, celebrating with his friends. People walked up to greet them and he didn’t miss a beat, smiling and laughing and drinking. Quietly, she wrapped a hand around the glass and took determined but slow sips from it.

“She’s thinking about doing it,” Brienne could see Margaery observing her from the corner of her eye.

“Less thinking and more doing,” Sansa urged.

The alcohol left a sweet, rich taste in her mouth but she didn’t stop her deliberate gulps from the glass. His broad shoulders shifted as he moved from side to side and he tossed his head back with loud laughter. Her eyes moved to his large hand clasped on the back of Jon and she absently licked her lips. The decision was made.

Brienne grabbed her phone and got up from the table to leave. Margaery and Sansa jumped up to immediately follow behind her.

“I’m going to do it,” she told them both when they hit the crisp, cool San Francisco air.

Margaery tilted her head in Brienne’s direction and Sansa did a little dance stepping from side to side, swinging her arms. They kept quiet when she pulled her phone out but she looked to them expectantly and they both went to attention.

“Text him,” Sansa pointed to the phone screen.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Margaery nodded her head. “Texting is cool and casual. It shows that you’re interested but you’re not exactly dying to have him inside you.”

“Well now I kinda’ am at this point,” Brienne admitted and received laughter in response.

Fine. She was texting him.

It took her an hour to do it, but she did.

And she regretted nothing.

Within a matter of seconds, he was leaving the bar and waiting by the entrance for her. Margaery and Sansa held their composure perfectly. She promised them both she would check in once she arrived to his place. Distress calls were shared and she would be sending the address the moment she got it.

Never in her life had she ever done anything like this... but here she was climbing into the backseat of a taxi with a musician to have a one night stand.

Once he closed the door, he placed his arm over her shoulder while she scooted in close to him.

"Why don't you tell me what you'd like me to do to you, beautiful?" Well, he was wasting _no_ time. His breath was warm, she could smell the alcohol, and his damp lips were rubbing against her ear.

Was _anything you like_ an appropriate answer? No, it was far too advanced for her because _anything_ could translate to well, **_anything_ ** and this was going to have to be handled with baby steps. The babiest of steps. So she opted for silence, enjoying his lips against her ear.

"How about when I do this?" He asked and gently tugged at her earlobe with his teeth.

Her mouth parted in a surprised gasp. Okay, that was a good start. A very good start.

His lips sent a rushing wave of pleasure through her body that settled right in the very pit of her stomach. Her eyes fluttered closed and his lips slowly kissed their way down to her neck where his tongue twirled in soft circles against her skin before capturing her neck in open mouthed kisses. He reached his hand over and moved it between her lap, gently stroking the bare skin of her thigh.

"The taxi,” she said breathlessly, “We're in the taxi..."

Though she uttered these words as some sort of warning, it didn’t stop him. It wasn’t as if Brienne was actually putting up a fight either. All she really did was place her own hand over his.

"Let him look," he growled against her neck. His beard tickled the exposed bits of her skin making her giggle just a little. He laughed along with her, his hot breath bouncing off her skin.

Let him look? Was he insane? He was, she decided. And she loved every bit of it.

"I mean, not with these fucking shorts in the way," his hand moved higher but stopped at the hem of her shorts. Brienne’s hand slipped up to his wrist, where she slowly wrapped her long fingers around it.

"Hey," he said softly and her eyes blinked open. The taxi driver's eyes cut to them in the rearview mirror then back to the road.

"Look at me, beautiful."

Their eyes met and Tormund held her gaze until he leaned forward and captured her lips in a passionate, consuming kiss. Her lips parted and their tongues met instantly. It was intensely dizzying, the way his tongue tasted of beer and gin mingled with the natural, earthy scent of him and whatever shampoo he used in his hair or beard. She savored that scent and maybe that was because she, too, had a bit to drink but goddamn she loved it.

The same hand he had between her thighs reached up to cup the side of her face and they kissed the entire ride. He stroked her jawline with his thumb, groaning softly into her mouth. He completely removed any feelings of apprehension or doubt that she may have had before they hopped into the back of this taxi together.

His thumb slowly moved back and forth across her jawline. Eventually, they had to pull away from each other and come up for air. She was softly panting while he looked at her, almost awestruck. His gaze was so overwhelming, Brienne attempted to turn her face away. The attempt was stopped by Tormund, who took her chin in his hand and turned her back to face him. He trailed his tongue against her bottom lip slowly and they were kissing again.

"I can't wait to taste you," he whispered against her lips.

They gazed into one another’s eyes and Brienne released a soft breath.

“Neither can I,” she said in a whisper, surprising herself.

His eyebrows perked at that and he removed his hand from her face and back to the same area between her thighs. It lingered there for a moment before he parted her thighs and his fingers slowly inched their way up until he reached the hem of her shorts once more.

She waited quietly with baited breath until his hand crept higher still and she felt his fingers move along the lining of her underwear. He gently pushed them aside and she gasped when his fingers found her wetness, inching up until he found her clitoris and moved a finger around it in a slow, lazy circle.

One of her hands splayed against the leather seat and she pushed it down into the cushion, trying with all her might to sustain any sounds. It was amazing how wonderful those rough fingers felt on the most sensitive areas between her legs. And he was a tease, moving his fingers around so slowly she felt like she might die. She wanted him to move his fingers faster, rougher, it had been so long and now her body was dying at the slightest touch.

Now, she really didn't care if the taxi driver knew what they were doing. His fingers teased her until it was just enough pressure to put a hitch in her breath.

And then he was suddenly pulling his fingers away from her, just as quickly as they were there. Frustration pulled at her and she set her brows into a frown when her eyes opened to look at him. With a smile, he brought his fingers to his lips and his tongue darted out. Brienne watched him closely, holding her breath and then released it in a soft mewling sound when he began to lick his fingers. They disappeared into his mouth and sucked on them, closing his eyes.

Brienne's lips parted and just as she decided she was going to fuck him right here in this taxi, it came to a halt.

"That'll be thirty dollars," the taxi driver cut through their backseat expedition.

"Right-o!" Tormund said cheerfully after he pulled his fingers away from his mouth and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. After he paid the fair and gave the man a hearty tip, he took Brienne by the hand and pulled her from the taxi.

How he was able to turn that on and off, she wasn't so sure. Brienne felt lightheaded and almost lost her balance walking to his home. Tormund didn't miss a beat, he put a hand on the small of her back to make sure she kept her balance.

The taxi drove off and he took her down a pair of steps, taking her hand in his. His home was a cozy hideaway, protected by a large black gate with a code on the right. After he entered the keys, he led her down a cemented path. They passed his garage and a perfectly arranged row of shrubbery until the cemented walkway became cobblestone right up to the steps of his front door.

Neither spoke as he unlocked the front door and flipped the lights on. His accent wall was made entirely of brick and was decorated with framed silver and gold albums. In the corner was a piano, a guitar, and a set of drums. She quietly wondered how he looked playing the piano. The image of his back to her, fingers trailing on those keys, stretching a finger to hit a key filled her mind.

Instantly, his arm snaked around her waist from behind.

She looked down at his hand, watching as it moved back and forth across her stomach. Her heart rate was picking up at increasing amounts.

"Would you like something to drink, love?" He was so close to her his breath bounced off the back of her neck and she could feel the slightest, gentlest brushes from his beard.

Was he serious? Did he really _think_ that she had come this far after _that_ ride to have a _drink_?

She turned to face him, his arm still around her, now resting on the small of her back and she pressed her lips to his in a fiery kiss. He dropped his keys to the floor and immediately rested his hand on the swell of her behind. Their kiss deepened and she took his face in her hands while he took her behind in his and gave them strong, hard squeezes. She released a muffled sound against his lips.

That drink was forgotten and to no one’s intentions, the promise to text her best friends and let them know she had safely arrived to his house. Her cell phone and clutch bag were now on his couch.

Tormund took a step forward as she took one back. His hands moved over her backside, down her thighs and he lifted her up with ease. She let out a sound of surprise against his lips and they both laughed. She’d never had that happen before and it took her by surprise. He released a low, throaty chuckle and took long strides down the hall to his bedroom.

Despite the darkness, he found the edge of his bed with ease but Brienne was confident he had done this many times before. He carefully dropped her down on the mattress and immediately began to undress, starting with this shirt. She could see the ripples of light on his bare chest and just when she thought they were getting started, he reached a long arm up and pulled the ceiling light on.

He chest was broad and hairy, ginger just like his beard. There was the lining of definition along his stomach but it was getting more bulk than muscle. His arms, however, were still large and muscular. She got distracted watching his bare chest that she barely noticed the way he was looking at her until she did...

Tormund’s eyes darkened, emblazoned with lust. In her lifetime, she had only seen that look in the eyes of only one other man. Even then it paled in comparison to the way his wild eyed, bushy haired man stared at her.

"Those are getting in the way," he motioned to her red top and shorts.

Right. Her clothes. She paused to look up at him. Was he really going to watch her undress?

He stood there, looking down at her while grabbing his erection through his jeans and she realized that yes, he was going to watch her take her clothing off. So she sat up in bed and with the lights on, pulled the red top over her head and threw it to the side. He had her at the advantage, all he really needed to do was pull his jeans and shoes off. Suddenly remembering that yes, she was wearing shoes, she leaned forward to unhook the sandals and stopped when Tormund’s hands moved forward to do it for her. Their eyes locked and he undid the shoes, keeping his eyes on her. One sandal was removed, then another.

She pulled away and unbuttoned her shorts and squirmed her way out of them. Tormund finished the rest when they reached her knees and pulled them off, throwing them to the side. Hesitating for a moment, Brienne unhooked her bra from behind and tossed it aside, too. Her clothes now lay in a pile next to the bed.

Silently, his eyes raked over her legs up to her chest and eventually her eyes.

"Damn," he said softly, openly admiring her now naked form.

He unzipped his jeans, pulling them off with ease. Brienne was blushing. He lowered down to his knees on the bed and took a calf in each hand, tugging her down the bed towards him. She could see his length lining his boxers and he caught her staring, giving a sideways smirk.

It seemed silly to say “big” like she was some teenager experiencing sex for the first time but there was no other way to put this. And he definitely lived up to the hype of that boldness, taking her cell phone and entering his number with no care in the world. The girth and length that outlined his boxer briefs was enough to make her stomach tighten with anticipation.

Damn, indeed.

He kissed the top of her feet and she propped on her elbows. She enjoyed the view as Tormund trailed his lips up her legs, taking his time and making sure never to neglect either leg. When he reached her thighs, he stopped for a moment then pressed his lips to her inner thighs and began giving each leg open mouthed kisses.

She watched him leave wet trails with his tongue along her inner thigh, then switch to the other leg - going back and forth, his head shifting from side to side. His eyes were closed like he was eating a five-course dinner and watching him devour her inner thighs drove her absolutely wild.

Soft sighs came from her lips as his lips moved farther up. His calloused hands smoothed over her legs and the tips of his fingers raked against her stomach until he was pulling her underwear off, slowly until... they joined the discarded pile of clothing.

"I'm gonna tell you exactly how you taste," he growled burying his head between her legs and wasting no time to devour her.

Her head fell back on the bed and she arched her back, her hips instinctively moving on their own. Tormund hooked one leg over is shoulder, holding her thigh so tightly that his blunt fingernails dug into her skin. When his tongue moved in rapid motions against her, she squirmed. He locked his arm even tighter around her thigh.

She tried so hard not to cry out too loudly, it was almost three in the morning but it seemed as though he knew what she was trying to do so he only aimed to provoke her more, burying his face deeply into her.

Soon, both her legs were draped over his shoulders and he had full control over her movements. She took handfuls of the blanket as he dove his tongue in and out of her, his hot breath bouncing on her skin, her sex, making her want to die each time.

"Where the fuck you goin' sweetheart?" He asked in a chuckle oozing with lust driven baritone.

She whimpered and opened her eyes to gaze down at him. He captured her in his mouth once more and kept his eyes open, watching her writhe and cry out as he dined on her.

" _Oh my god_ ," she whispered hoarsely, arching her back higher and higher off the bed until her behind was suspended in mid-air and still, he held on tightly to her. She pressed her palms flat on the bed and pushed her head farther against the mattress. All she could do was work her hips towards his mouth and her body did what her mind could not. So her hips rolled forward onto his lips and mouth and that ridiculous tongue.

" _I'm coming_!" Brienne shouted and then... she came. Hard. She felt as if she were slowly but beautifully coming undone. Little pieces of her just crumbled against his mouth and she could feel pieces of her soul drift into the air around them. She felt completely at his will, completely his, and her behind lowered back down to the bed.

He pulled away and let out a low whistle, wiping his beard with the back of his hand..

"You taste like heaven," he hovered over her.

“But I’m gonna’ fuck the hell out of you,” he smiled down at her.

There was a little movement between their bodies as he pulled his boxer briefs down and when he reached over to grab something from the bedside table which she eventually discovered was a condom, his length brushed against her and the slightest touch made a shiver run through her. She looked down between their bodies then back up to him but he was too focused on putting the condom on to notice whatever expression she bore now.

He tore the gold wrapper and moved a hand between them.

"Safe sex is the best sex, am I right?"

He laughed at his own stupid joke and Brienne wanted to laugh at him laughing at his own joke but her mind was too focused on the size of his length and the way her body was still buzzing from the aftershock of her orgasm. And perhaps, if just a little… her nerves, too.

He put his weight on one arm and fit his hips down between hers.

They locked eyes and he licked his lips, “And you’re okay with this?”

For a moment, his expression became very serious and she couldn’t help the small smile that played at her lips. He waited a moment, gazing down at her before moving forward.

“Yes,” she replied, just before he thrust into her, all of him, inciting a rumble in her lower stomach that came out in a loud, guttural moan of her own.

Tormund stayed still for a moment. She could tell he was trying very hard to keep still the way he stiffened above her. He put all of his weight on one hand, he took her thigh in his hand and lifted it to wrap around his waist. She followed suit with the other and he inched just a bit deeper inside her. She gasped, placing a hand on each of his shoulders.

Then the rhythm between their bodies began.

A loud cry escaped her lips and he wasted no time as he began to work his hips faster and his bed thumped loudly against the wall. As he thrust madly inside her, she gripped his shoulders harder and shut her eyes so tight she could see starbursts behind them.

Each time he filled her, she cried out louder and louder.

They worked up a sweat as he worked harder, thrusting faster and deeper inside her.. She shifted her arms underneath his and gripped his shoulders hard, digging her nails into his skin.

" _Fuck_ ," he groaned.

Tormund's head was bowed as the sound of the thumping bed and his skin slapping against hers filled the bedroom.

She’d never done this before and gods, she felt so bad. So dirty. But she loved it. Loved every of it. Everything about this was just so wrong but how could that be when it felt so goddamn _right_?

She urged him with her cries, whimpering at the way he filled her entirely.  It had been so long since she felt this, she needed this.

He slowed his hips to a halt and her eyes blinked open to find him looking down at her. He was smiling that toothy, goofy grin and she matched it with a big smile of her own. Tormund lowered his head to press his lips to hers, open mouthed kisses and tongues entwined. His hips slowly worked in and out of her again and she gasped into his mouth.

Shifting on the bed, Tormund moved to his knees and took her hips into his hands. He trailed the tips of his thumbs over her hip bones and gripped her tightly. Both her hands gripped the pillow even tighter above her head.

He gave one hard thrust and they both matched each other's groans, his eventually turning to grunts. Tormund pulled his hips back and paused there again. She made a sound of protest that came out like a pleading whimper. Slow and torturous. Perfect. He rested his forehead to hers, their noses crushing against one another.

“ _Ah_ ,  _fuck…_ ” he began chanting it each time he thrust inside her.

Sitting up straight, he began to thrust... again and again and soon he was back to fucking her, rocking his hips so fast now she was sure she'd catch a cramp from it. But she did not care, she needed him to fuck her like she hadn't been fucked before.

She could deal with the way her body would feel later as she thanked all the gods for the way he was pounding into her. He groaned through gritted teeth and alternated between rolling his hips and thrusting into her. Brienne’s loud cries filled the bedroom with each thrust.

She couldn’t believe this was happening again but it was happening again and…

Her mouth parted in a silent cry and her hands moved to grab a hold of the pillow on each side as her orgasm took complete control of her. Tormund’s hips thrust until they moved in jerky motions and he was shuddering above her.

His breathing became jagged and he stayed hovering over her, finishing. She panted as her eyes opened once more and she looked up at him. His eyes were still shut very tight and he slowly lowered her down to the bed. Tormund’s eyes opened and looked down at her leaning down until he was just a kiss away from her.

Brienne moved one of her arms and lifted a hand up to stroke the side of his face gingerly with his knuckles. His eyes flashed open at the act of tenderness and he gazed down at her then lowered until his lips were pressed to hers. They kissed for a while and then he pulled himself out of her. Tormund pushed himself up from the bed and she watched his bare backside as he walked into the bathroom and flicked the lights on. He gave her a towel and waited as she cleaned up.

After he finished, he came to lie back down in the bed and pulled her close to him, her back to his chest.

"You are perfect, I hope you know that." He kissed the back of her neck and she smiled at the feel of his beard on her skin again. "Tomorrow... I'm free," he yawned, he was already half asleep when he climbed back into the bed.

They pulled the covers up over their naked bodies and before Brienne knew it, he had fallen asleep with her following soon after.

By morning, all those bold feelings - all the things she said, she _did_... it hit her like a crashing wave of judgment. She woke up to find that Tormund was still asleep, snoring heartily at that. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned from her. All she could see was the mess of red hair and his back slowly rising and falling.

She bit her bottom lip and watched his even breathing for a moment. This would be another wonderful first-time experience: the walk of shame. She sent Sansa a text message, apologizing for not informing her she was at his house but also to let her know she was on the way and carefully climbed from the bed. Thankfully, he didn't even stir. Between the concert and all the sex, he was truly worn out. 

The idea that Brienne would be another one of his girls... another notch on his bed post... She had to get the hell out of here. The moment was fun but it was just that: a moment. 

She hastily dressed and in a state of panic, left his place sans underwear because she couldn't find them. (“What the hell?” She found herself asking in a terrified whisper before fully giving up on the panty search.) She couldn't believe she was doing this!

Sansa offered to pick her up and it would have been a hell of a lot better than paying thirty dollars for a taxi so she decided that she would wait for her friend. Brienne didn't expect to see both Sansa and Margaery in the car when she slipped through the gate and walked to the curb.

"You look like a raccoon!" Margaery said proudly. Brienne absently reached a hand up to wipe at her eyes. Oh god she must look absolutely ridiculous.

"Get in the car and tell us every tawdry detail. You're not to leave anything out!" Sansa laughed when Brienne clambered into the backseat. She collapsed and her head fell back against the seat as she released a long breath.

Her eyes went between her friends and her embarrassed expression changed to one of profound happiness.

"Marks out of ten?" It was Margaery that asked this.

Brienne sheepishly hid her face from them and held up ten fingers, much to the delight of both Sansa and Margaery. Sansa cheered at the top of her lungs while Margaery smiled to herself and nodded, “I knew it,” she said proudly. Then repeated it again.

And the car took off while Tormund, worn out and spent from their encounter, slept on peacefully.


	4. More Than A Thrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would Brienne see Tormund again if given the opportunity? Oh she most certainly _would_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get to write about my favorite thing in this chapter: female friendships. It's my favorite thing. You always need a good girlfriend to steer you in the right or maybe not so right direction... I've never been a professional musician and so I'm only writing from hearsay and various documentaries I have watched. We're going to pretend this is _exactly_ what happens and run with it. Thank you all for the reviews/kudos!

* * *

Tormund sat looking at nothing in particular, bleary eyed and not quite awake. His knees were killing him and his back didn’t feel too damn good either. He didn’t have to get up to do a search to know that Brienne had abandoned him. Usually after a night like that a woman stayed, had breakfast. Then he would have to cook up some lie about having somewhere important that he had to be and her needing to leave. Either way, he was a little regretful she hadn’t stayed but that was fine. He’d get her again, he was confident. 

Surely, she didn't think this was over. Had she not forgotten that he now had her phone number, too? And he was obviously going to call her.

During this sleepy haze and hungover collection of thoughts, Tormund’s own phone began to ring. Thanks to Arya, that little troll, 2 Chainz’s  _ Birthday Song _ had been his ringtone. The fact that it had been his ringtone for the past two years wasn’t missed on him but the song was catchy.

He shifted to the edge of his bed and leaned over to pull his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. 

"What the fuck do ya want?" Tormund asked, annoyed that the caller in question was not who he wanted it to be.

"Usually, when a man gets as lucky as you did the previous night, one often wakes up in a better mood,” Jon pointed out, amusement oozing in his voice.

"You interrupted my sleep," he grumbled.

He looked over at the empty spot and grinned. She made up her side before she left. Cute.

"God, you're turning into Sandor."

"I will never be that miserable old fuck. Now, again, what the fuck do ya want?"

"You know what I'm about to say."

Of course, he knew. Jon and Ygritte's relationship had been on and off for as long as Tormund and Jon had been best friends. Ygritte spent her time between New York and California mostly because she modeled or showed up on proper television shows, Tormund never could figure out what her actual career was. 

Occasionally, flipping through a magazine in the doctor’s office he would see a pretty picture of her. Sometimes he even saw the articles about her and Jon walking down a street if they were in Los Angeles together. Those days were rare now as Ygritte worked more and Jon spent more time in San Francisco with the band. Eventually, they would work that out. Eventually.

"When are you going to New York?"

Jon hesitated and then sighed.

“Out with it, man!” Tormund laughed.

"Today?” Jon said it tentatively while Tormund rolled his eyes on his end. 

“I think the phrase  _ you’ve got it bad _ is light all things considered.”

Jon wouldn’t respond to that but he wouldn’t argue it either, he simply moved right along to the next subject. 

“Melisandre tells us that we get a vacation but then she turns around and says that she hopes we're ready to record in a month’s time.”

"That's why she's our manager," Tormund stretched his arms high over his head and went into the bathroom. 

"She has to annoy the shit out of us for material and we have to oblige. Besides, it's been two years since we put a full album out."

Which was true. They had released one single in the past two years. It did alright, even got them a few fans, and was featured on one of those television shows but fans were dying for another album. It was only a matter of time. The real problem had not been laziness, at least not on his part. There was this small issue he had with something called writing…

Either way, he was so grateful their manager hadn’t made an appearance last night. None of them would have gotten the freedom to drink and he definitely wouldn’t have been able to bring Brienne home. Melisandre monitored their activity like an overprotective mother at all times. Tormund would be lying if he wasn’t grateful for that.

"I think it would be great to finally work on those solo albums."

Tormund paused before he began to use the bathroom and put the phone in the crook of his neck, "Yeah, Arya is going to have a fuckin' fit about that. She and Gendry are getting married in November, Jon. Do we have the time and money to do solo albums now?"

"You’ve been doing that song and dance for years, Tormund. I think it’s time. Don’t you think it’s time?”

Tormund gave a sound of frustration. Despite the many requests for him to make music on his own, he always opted out of it. Mostly because he was afraid his music would fall flat on the audience they played to regularly. And also, he hadn't really found the right inspiration. Features on other albums as a guest or even showing up to play at a show that didn't feature the rest of the band happened on occasion, for all of them, but he wasn't so confident about a solo project.

"I hate when you piss while you're on the phone with me."

“Well if you hate pissing…” Tormund started but was cut short by Jon.

“Please don’t say it,” Jon begged.

“SHITTING!” Tormund finished and then bellowed with loud laughter while his best friend groaned from his end.

After he was done laughing at his own joke, he continued, “But I need to go, it’s time for breakfast.”

"Thought you had your breakfast when you invited her over?"

After Tormund washed his hands, he grabbed the phone and walked back into the bedroom.

"Oh, aren’t you fuckin’ clever?” He quipped.

He squinted his eyes and knelt down to the floor. On all fours, he reached his hand under the bed and marveled at the sight before him. A pair of black underwear with cartoon strawberries printed on them in a pattern lay in a small, crumpled heap. 

She had probably been trying to leave the apartment in such a haste that she decided not to bother with them. Or maybe, she had left them behind because she wanted him to call her again. 

Either way, it could only be one of those two reasons and it piqued his interest in her even more. He started to laugh and whatever Jon was saying was cut short because he was no longer paying attention to him. He laughed so hard that eventually Jon had no choice but to stop.

"What's so funny?" Jon sounded wary.

"Nothing," Tormund absently replied, picking the underwear up and smiling at them. The best idea just came to mind.

"Before I head out, I'm going to stop by. We can drink and do the things that normal people do." Jon started up talking again. He was telling Tormund they should throw some things on the grill and maybe have a few drinks. He could never turn Jon down for barbecued meat and beer but somehow he made going to New York to visit his girlfriend like he was going off to fight in the war or something.

Tormund walked over to her neatly made up side of the bed and laid the underwear out. He smoothed them over the surface and made sure there wasn't one wrinkle and then, just because he could, pulled his phone away from his ear to open the camera and snap a picture.

"Calm down, you big baby. We'll all be here when you get back. But yes, you can come over today and we'll grill, get drunk, and abuse our guitars. Who knows, we may even get a little work done?"

"Sure thing," Jon said and before the man could even say goodbye, Tormund hung up the phone. 

He had to do this carefully. Some women would appreciate a good  _ so when can I fuck the shit outta you again _ text message but he knew in his heart that she was different. 

So Tormund thought about it for a moment. He didn’t want to scare her off, just wanted some playful banter to make her laugh. Something that she, too, would find amusing. She had after all, been the one to leave the underwear behind in the first place. Tapping the side of his chin, Tormund looked down at the underwear and then smiled. He’d keep it simple.

So as he thought about the way she was blonde everywhere, he tried to figure out just the right message to send her. When he created the perfect message that would get the best response, his tongue darted between his lips, and he smiled.

Proud of his handiwork, he typed his message and hit  _ SEND MESSAGE _ .

 

* * *

 

After a steaming hot shower and two Advils, Brienne was treated to lunch by Margaery and Sansa. They hadn’t teased her as much as she thought they would, even though they had to pull what happened in great detail from her through a series of coaxing and pleading. Now all three of them were sitting full and happy, with their abandoned but nearly empty plates before them. 

Both of her friends had taken it upon themselves to advise her on how to handle Tormund and Brienne had never heard such a horrible pep talk before in her life. They were actively encouraging her to be a wild woman.

"No, you guys, I cannot send the man a message and ask if he wants round three. What is  _ wrong _ with you?" She made a face at the both of them.

Margaery shrugged, "He said he was free today." and she took a sip of her water.

“Oh, let the man give you a third orgasm!” Sansa protested.

Brienne's cheeks grew hot and she looked down.

There wasn't an ounce of regret in her but the idea that she had actually done something like this still shocked her. It was so unlike her and so completely out of character. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she would be capable of something like this. 

Brienne was seriously having a hard time coming to terms that she had just spent a night with a musician she had just decided 'wasn't her type' a mere five and a half hours before they had sex.

"You know this isn’t like me though,” Brienne began. “I don’t do these things.”

"But you did," Sansa said rather proudly, "And listen, it's not a bad thing. Every woman deserves a good time. It's an unwritten law! And Brienne, you  _ need _ this."

It did not go unnoticed that Sansa said “need” instead of “needed” either.

Margaery nodded furiously.

"I know we're not supposed to say it but you were with Jaime for… honestly, _for_ ** _ever_** and you've never even been with another man.” Margaery paused here and put a hand to her chest, dramatically leaning back and shutting her eyes. Once she was done, making Brienne tighten her upper lip and look away with a shake of her head, she continued, “Honestly, if anyone deserves a good fuck, darling it’d have to be you."

"Oh god," Brienne propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands.

“Okay fine,” Margaery held her hands up, “if you don’t want to talk about it anymore then we won’t. But if Tormund propositioned you again, would you?”

Absolutely. She would  _ absolutely _ meet him again. Even now with the dull ache between her thighs, she still wanted more. Would have been devastated if she didn’t get at least one more opportunity to have him look at her the way he did when he stood there, gazing down at her as she undressed in his bed. Brienne pulled her face away from her hand and looked at them both. 

Sansa pointed at Brienne and her eyes brightened, “Aha! I see that face!”

“What face?”

“You totally would. She would!” Sansa turned to Margaery and they both laughed.

With a defeated sigh, Brienne shrugged and slowly nodded her head. 

“So if he contacts you again, fantastic. If he doesn’t, whatever. There are men all over California ready to climb your tree. We’ll help them get there.” Brienne didn’t know about that... “I encourage you to have fun and if you meet someone along the way then that's fantastic. If you don't then you get to keep fucking as many men-"

"Or women," Margaery added.

"That you like," Sansa continued.

Her phone buzzed on the table and she frowned, picking it up to look at it.

"This is him," she whispered.

Both Margaery and Sansa gave sounds of pure delight. Surprise filled Brienne and swiped her phone open and gawked at the message. In her own shock at him actually responding to her, she had forgotten that she had in fact, left her underwear behind in her haste to get out of his house before woke up.

His text to her was a photo of the underwear she’d been wearing the night before with the text underneath:  **_Looking for these_ ** **?**

Sansa and Margaery were both trying to get the information from her.  _ What did he say _ ?  _ What did he do _ ? But she couldn't hear them. Their voices sounded muffled, as if they were underwater or far away from her. And to be fair, they weren't asking the right questions:  _ What did  _ **_she_ ** _ do _ ? She hadn’t exactly confided with them that she left her underwear at his place. She didn’t think she would need to honestly...

Her heart rate picked up at an alarming speed and her stomach gave that great and also very terrible feeling like she was being lunged three thousand feet in the air only to be taken back down to the ground at an even faster pace. Her throat had gone dry. She couldn't actually breathe. Was this what a heart attack felt like? Maybe panic? Anxiety? What the fuck was it?!

Beads of sweat were on her forehead by the time she realized she was still sitting at the table with her friends. They had stopped talking now and were both sitting there gazing at her, waiting for her to answer their question. Where could she even begin?

"Oh, let me see," Margaery reached for the phone and Brienne withdrew her hand so fast, she almost sent the phone flying across the street.

" _ NO _ !"

Her shout got the attention of other patrons and she ducked a little in her seat.

"No," she repeated, softer and much more reserved than the first time.

"Well is it a dick pic?" Margaery asked so casually even Sansa had to a double take. Realizing it could have been, her expression changed to one of pure amusement and she leaned in a little closer towards Brienne’s direction.

Her phone buzzed again and she reproachfully looked down at it and scoffed.

_ I'm holding them hostage until you come to get them, beautiful _ .

She really could have just fallen dead on the spot. She replied to him almost immediately, something pooling in the pit of her stomach. Was it anger? Frustration? Desire? Was it possible to feel every one of those things at once?

_ You’ve got be kidding me _ … 

Two seconds later he sent her a selfie and he was grinning from ear to ear. She rolled her eyes and turned the phone face down on the table. She looked up to find Margaery and Sansa looking at her with confused expressions.

Margaery reached over and confiscated the phone with ease as Brienne flailed her arms similar to the movements of a fish out of water, trying to snatch it back from her hands.

"Rule number one in casual sex, always keep this phone locked." Margaery swiped and her expression did not change.

"Oh, Brienne," she laughed, "I can fix this. Wow, he has quite the goofy smile, doesn't he? I think he really likes you!” Margaery leaned in to Sansa and showed her the same photo. Sansa started to giggle and nod her head.

Brienne, who was still too embarrassed to address the “cuteness” of Tormund was still stuck on the fact that he had taken a picture of her underwear and was now  _ holding them hostage _ . Margaery’s thumbs started moving and Brienne lunged forward but missed the phone by a hair when Margaery leaned back out of her reach.

“Margaery, stop it!”

“Nope. Nope. Nope.” She shook her head.

“He likes you. You like him. It’s just a bit of fun, isn’t it? Nothing serious. Some summer fun and a good and much  _ deserved _ proper dick down.”

Even the mention of the word made the tips of her ears burn.

They all sat in silence, while Brienne watched Margaery have a text message conversation with Tormund. 

Breaking the silence, Brienne sat up and held her hands up.

“Okay, so I’m spending my summer having casual sex with Tormund Gianstbane. Cool. No big deal. Not at all.”

“Alright so rule number two - remember that this is a summer fling. It’s not anything else. You’re having fun and you’re just enjoying life like you should. And there’s really no pressure…”

“She says that like she hasn’t taken my phone and sent out text messages to this man without my permission.”

“Because I both love and know you.”

That was true.

"There you go." Margaery handed the phone back to her. "You're meeting him tomorrow night at a bar called the  _ Wicked Lounge _ . I let him pick the spot but I assure you that I would  _ never _ let him take you somewhere terrible. Of course, his first choice was to go to  _ The Onion Knight _ again.  _ Men _ .” She shook her head while Sansa rolled her eyes, “Now, we're going to get you dressed so nicely that he loses his fucking mind. Maybe he'll even fuck you in the bathroom."

She shot Margaery daggers and the woman shrugged.

“Why can’t I wear what I normally wear on dates?” Brienne asked very seriously. “He’s seen me completely naked. I doubt that it matters at this point.”

“When’s the last time you had a date?” Sansa perked an eyebrow.

That was fair.

With a nervous intake of breath, Brienne looked at the conversation between Margaery pretending to be her and Tormund. She was relieved that there wasn’t any tawdry x-rated exchange. All he asked was when he could see her again and that made her smile.

“Look at you,” Sansa gushed.

"You are..." Brienne shook her head, still looking at the conversation on her phone.

"Phenomenal," Margaery finished for her. “And the bonus is that you don’t even have to get waxed.”

“Yes!” Sansa cheered at the same time Brienne groaned out, “Oh god.”

Later that night when Tormund spotted Brienne sitting at the bar, nursing her drink a slow smile crept on his lips. She wore a black jacket and a cute little blue jean skirt and she had her hair pinned on one side. Absently, she pushed at the black rimmed glasses she wore and took another sip of her drink.

“That’s my date right there,” Tormund pointed to Brienne when he was immediately greeted by the host upon entering inside the lounge. 

“I can go get here for you while you wait in VIP, if you’d like.”

Tormund didn’t feel like that would impress her. So he patted the host on the shoulder and slipped him a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

“I’ll get her but can you do me a huge favor and make sure that nobody disturbs us?”

The host took the hundred dollar bill and folded it tightly in his hand. He gave Tormund a giant smile and nodded his head furiously.

“Absolutely.”

Tormund decided he would just get her himself.


	5. Any Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tormund and Brienne are on their second date. It gets saucy, lol. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and thanks for all the love!

The blue jean skirt was Sansa's idea. Personally, Brienne didn't think it mattered what she wore as the man seemed content to get her naked anyway.

The moment she spotted Tormund walking towards her in the bar, the room got hot. He cleaned up very well and she couldn’t find one complaint. His hair was pulled back and combed neatly, beard newly trimmed, and was he dressed in a black button down shirt. She almost felt underdressed when she saw him.

“So, do you have another pair of cute panties for me to confiscate or...?”

“Tormund, really…” She couldn’t help but blush, even in this dim light at how bold he was.

“Oh come now,” he leaned in to press his lips to her ear, “let’s not pretend like I’m going to take the ones you’re wearing right now, too.”

He pulled back and smiled at her. She was not a good actress and she couldn’t hide the fact that he had an affect on her. That smug grin of his was enough for her to know that he could see just how he made her feel all over her face.

"I got us a table in the back… VIP lounge," he said with a smile and took her by the hand, pulling her away from the drink she had been babysitting for the past minute or so.

They set to meet each other around nine but she came early to knock back a few to build up her liquid courage. Things were going pretty good until she saw him. Fifty conversations with herself in the mirror that was half-covered in steam in the bathroom of Sansa and Margaery's apartment led her to this.

"Could you do this?" She asked her reflection, turning on the blow-dryer and watching as the wet, clumpy hair became softer and flowed with the wind of the dryer.

"Yes you can," she pointed to her reflection.

There were several questions she had about how this was supposed to go about but Margaery assured her that once she told him she was only going to be in San Francisco for eight weeks, he would catch on fast enough. Brienne didn’t expect them to spend too much time in public after this, let alone do a lot of talking. Wasn’t this how casual sex went?

She quietly agreed and now that she was following him to the secluded booth where they would be spending their evening, it was obvious he was just as aware about the casual sex as much as she was.

"I don't like to flex any power but sometimes it's hard to have a conversation with someone when you're constantly being interrupted by people. And really, I appreciate every compliment and complaint,” he paused to laugh, “but a man’s gotta entertain more than a crowd.”

She had no idea what he meant as most people spent their time trying to avoid her at best. Her pleasant surprise was not hidden when she discovered they didn't have to wait to be seated either. He could see she was impressed and she couldn't help but give the smile he had a little frown of her own.

"Oh, come on, you're telling me you don't like the idea that you can skip through all the noise and tightness of that crowd back there?"

He stepped aside to let her scoot into the booth. The leather was cold on her legs the moment she sat down. Tormund joined her and wasted no time moving in close to her. His hand rested atop her thigh and as the server asked them what they were drinking, his thick finger moving in circles on her thigh.

"Can I ask you something?" He turned to her the moment their server left and she popped her chin in her hand and pursed her lips. "Mmm?" She asked.

"Do you know how nice your ass is?"

She blinked and he started to laugh.

"Please don’t tell me you don’t know."

Well he got right into it, didn't he?

"That's me complimenting your ass, by the way."

"I ...thank you," she nodded her head. Where the hell were the drinks?

"Listen, if I'm too forward, just let me know. I can pull it back." He sounded so sincere and then his finger stopped the circles on her thigh and she locked eyes with him.

"When I want you to stop, I'll tell you to stop." The tone in her voice was low and commanding, albeit gentle. Internally, she wasn't sure who the hell that person was but she kept it cool on the surface. He raised his eyebrows and the lopsided smirk returned to his face. That finger began its little twirl against her skin again and she sighed.

"What part of San Francisco are you from? What do you do?"

"I'm not even from California," she laughed. "I live in Austin and it's all boring compared to you, which I’m sure you know."

"Baby, nothing out of that pretty mouth will ever bore me."

Brienne looked at him skeptically but he encouraged her to go on. He stroked the bottom her chin with his other hand. She had to give it to him, he was good. He was _very_ good. Her body only just returning to its normal state before meeting Tormund and now here she was again, ready to go through it all again.

She talked about how she was a graphic artist for a publishing company but also spent time on the side being a freelance artist. Most of that work came from the building up of her clientele, which she was so thankful for. The job paid her well enough that she was the owner of a small home near the University of Austin. As time would have it, she ended up staying after her relationship with Jaime became very serious while Sansa and Margaery moved to San Francisco to work for an animation company. Then there was her father, a widower, who followed her eventually to Austin and spent most of his time at her house to have dinners and binge watch television with his daughter and her fiance until it just became binge watching weekends with his daughter…

She realized as she talked about her best friends, their lives sounded much more exciting than hers but when she looked at him, he had his chin in his hand with a smile on his face watching her speak.

“So you can draw? Actually draw?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “I can actually draw.”

“I mean you went to school for it and everything.”

That just made her laugh harder as she nodded.

“Yes, I went to school for it. The money is great when I’m working in rotation  but I was always more interested in History. I wanted to go back and get my doctorate for History but I feel like that ship has sailed.”

“Wait, so you’re a history nerd, too?”

“I absolutely am,” she said proudly and jutted out her chin for good measure.

“Well then you gotta go back!” He exclaimed.

Tormund’s interest in her interest of History and Art History sent them down a path of her gushing about the importance of history preservation, her love for Post-Impressionism art, and Van Gogh in general. The consumption of alcohol only encouraged her to talk more, be more animated, and because she talked with her hands she became very excited there was a bit of hands lifting in the air and moving around, too.

“Shut me up, _please_ ,” she said with a laugh and shook her head.

She covered her mouth but Tormund reached over and moved her hand from her mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers. She watched him kiss each fingertip, heat pooling in her stomach.

“I hate to tell you this, but I’m not gonna do that. Not at all. You could talk to me all night and I’d be just fine.”

But the both of them knew they weren’t in the business of doing much talking later.

"How long will you be in San Francisco?" He asked, moving his hand back and forth on her thigh.

"Well, I usually just visit my friends for the summer." She was trying to successfully ignore the impact his hand had on her thigh.

Tormund nodded his head then his hand moved an inch higher. And higher...

"I'm taking a bit of a vacation myself," he shrugged casually and watched her closely in the dim lighting of the room.

His hand pushed her skirt higher up her thigh. She looked down at her lap and then back to him. He held her eyes for a moment, then leaned in to press a soft close-mouthed kiss to her lips.

"Can I touch you, Brienne?”

It was a whispered request, spoken so softly that she wouldn’t have known had they not been sitting so close together.

" _Yes_ ," she whispered against his lips and he slipped a finger inside her, stroking her with his thumb. Her head bowed down and she bit down hard on her bottom lip. He put his left arm over her shoulder, while his right hand pleased her.

"It’s almost like… we could spend our vacation together."

"Together?" She licked her lips as he added another finger.

" _Yes_ ," she whispered.

"I like when you talk about history. You get excited about it and when you get excited..."

He curled his fingers each time he gently thrust them inside her and she gasped, trying very hard not to make noise or at least seem so obvious. Her hips pushed forward, meeting the thrust of his fingers as they slowly moved in and out of her.

"I get excited," he finished.

Her eyes fluttered closed and then opened again, as she was trying her best to seem as casual as anyone could in a situation like this. He was absolutely insane and she was joining him in this journey that was spiraling completely out of her control.

Now it made perfect sense why he wanted “privacy.”

The server barely batted an eyelash at them walking by as he fingered her underneath the table. She turned her head until her forehead rested along the crook of his neck. Brienne was trying but failing so terribly to keep her hips still and it wasn’t as if Tormund was encouraging her to be discreet either.

So when he walked over and sat more pre-ordered drinks on the table, his head nod and asking them if they were okay while Tormund spoke to him so coolly made Brienne want to die. Just a little.

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered against the man’s neck.

The vague request was enough for him. Tormund turned to the server as he sat the drinks down for them and didn't bother stopping to move his fingers. "We'd like to close the tab, thank you."

The server was off again, at rapid speed. She let out a ragged breath and cut her eyes at Tormund.

Brienne grabbed the shot glass full of amber liquid and tossed it back in one gulp. It burned her throat but warmed her stomach. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold her composure. Her hand pressed flat to the table top and her head lowered.

His fingers slowly pulled away, leaving a trail of wetness on her inner thighs.

 

* * *

 

Tormund trailed the same fingers around the top of the glass and then mimicking Brienne, he tossed it back. He almost felt sorry that he was going to intentionally steal her away from her friends. She did after all, come to visit them every summer but she made the final answer when he was teasing her with his fingers. Sure, he had the slight advantage over that situation but the decision had been made.

He liked listening to her talk, especially when she really got into the conversation. It wasn't often that people were genuine with him. In his business, most people only cozied up to him because they wanted things from him. Brienne seemed to be here for the same thing he was: great sex and a fun time. And Tormund liked that. He liked her.

And he wanted her.

Watching the expressions she made as he fingered her underneath the table, made his erection throb with an unbridled lust that overtook him in the most unimaginable ways.

When he pulled his fingers away, albeit slowly and tenderly, she looked shell shocked and taken aback. Slowly, she turned to face him and captured his lips in a very hungry kiss, those long fingers stroking the back of his neck, working their way into his hair to massage his scalp. Her body pressed against his, an arm still resting on her shoulder. His hand snaked its way down to capture her around the waist. She was almost in his lap now.

"Don't start what you can't finish," he teased.

"You should talk," she protested playfully.

"You're right and I told you I was gonna’ make you come again. Now I owe you double."

He leaned his head down to nuzzle his lips along her neck and she let out a very soft giggle that made him in turn, chuckle against the nape of her neck.

"I need to freshen up before we leave," she kissed him once more before getting up from the table. He watched her walk away, his eyes going to her behind and then he looked around. If his hard on had anything to do with this, they weren’t going to make it out of here.

The server came with his tab and Tormund stood up from the table.

“Thanks for keeping us uninterrupted my good man.” He handed the guy a fifty dollar bill.

"Keep the change," he patted him on the chest (it really was the least he could do) and instead of making his way to the exit, he took a right and walked down the hall that lead to the bathrooms. He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, waiting very patiently for her to come through the door.

When the door opened, Brienne startled at the sight of him and her mouth parted in a surprised "o."

Pushing himself from the wall, Tormund walked over to her and took one arm from his pocket and cupped the back of her neck to kiss her again. She responded to him immediately, leaning in to his kiss. He took one step forward and she took one back and they did that until he had her back inside the bathroom and he closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" She whispered against his lips breathlessly.

He had known _Wicked Lounge_ like the palm of his hand, he knew the VIP lounge bathrooms held single occupant rooms but even if there had been a stall, he still would have done it. And he wished he had a solid answer because he didn't really know what he was doing. But he definitely knew _why._

The server had already spotted him, knew a few of his songs even but he couldn't stop himself now. It was stupid and crazy. And she was worth the trouble. He wanted her too badly to wait for the goddamn drive home.

"I’m finishing what I started."

His lips met hers again feverishly and he took steps forward until she was pushed against the wall. He groaned hungrily against her mouth and fit a leg between hers, pushing them apart with ease. He reveled in the fact that it didn't take much work to convince her that they were going to have sex in this bathroom. In fact, her hands had found his belt and her fingers fumbled a bit as she undid the buttons. He took her hips in his hand and pinned them to the wall with his own, his lips still on hers.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she whispered against his lips.

"You're doing it," he responded, pushing his throbbing erection against her thigh.

He took a step back, looking at her kiss-swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy blond hair. With an admirable shake of his head, he turned her around to face the wall and shoved her skirt up over her behind. He gaped at her backside and looked up at the back of her head. She was looking over her shoulder at him, mouth parted. That face was just begging him to fuck her and he would do just that.

He winked and smacked her on the bottom, eliciting a gasp from her before pulling her underwear down.

"Aww, I was hoping you were going to give me some more of those fruity ones," he looked down at her underwear and laughed. She made a sound of protest and that was all he needed to finish what he started.

He pushed his pants and boxers down in a haste and smoothed his hand over the spot he spanked and she pushed her backside into his hand.

"Goddamn girl," he said softly before taking his length in his hand slipping it inside her.

She whimpered upon first thrust and he immediately started a rhythm. His thrusts were more like pumps - in an out of her, pushing her against the wall each time he entered her. She felt fucking divine around his length and he let himself drown in the ecstasy of her.

Tormund reached a hand around between her parted legs and began to stimulate her as his thrusts became harder and faster.

" _Oh god_ ," she moaned loudly as he picked up speed.

While one hand stroked her clitoris, he steadied the other on her hip for balance.

" _Fuck, Brienne_..." his head fell forward and dug his fingers into her hip. He pulled her back just a bit until she was almost standing with her back pressing to his and her legs parted more. He moved his hand from her hip and moved his arm around her stomach, thrusting hard and fast into her.

The sounds she made as he fucked her pushed him closer and closer but he would not let himself finish before her. So he pulled out and she gave another loud whimper of protest. He turned her around to face him and hiked one long leg up in the air to wrap around his waist as he thrusted up into her.

He cupped the underside of her thigh tightly and pounded away, resting the palm of his hand flat to the wall.

" _Oh my god_!" She cried out loudly and was almost lifting her off the ground he was thrusting so hard into her. Brienne's hands rested on his shoulders and he rested his forehead on her shoulder, his grunts matching her cries.

"That's right baby," he coaxed slowing down the rhythm of his hips until they were now rolling in a teasing, tantalizing motion. "Just like that," he urged in a  coaxing whisper into her ear. He was so close but loved the way she looked when she came. He’d make it his goal to make sure she came before every single time or he would at least die trying.

Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly and she pushed the back of her head against the wall. Goddamn she felt so good, he probably _would_ die. And then, her orgasm won over and she convulsed and tightened around his length. It was all he needed and he pulled out of her quickly, coming hard into his hand, trembling and groaning as he did.

"You're insane," she panted, watching him as he finished up. She licked her lips and began to pull her underwear back up while he washed his hands and cleaned up.

"I know," he laughed and walked back over to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into another kiss.

When he did eventually pull away from her, she smoothed her hair down as best she could. Her lipstick was gone by now and she adjusted her top. It didn't matter, anyone would know what they were doing the moment they opened that door and stepped out. He hadn't done anything this reckless in such a long time and he regretted nothing about it.

And of course, when he did open the door there was a small line and some dirty looks thrown in their directions. Before anyone could recognize him, he took Brienne by the hand and left as soon as his legs would carry him.

She covered her own face with her hands and was now shaking her head.

"I can't believe I did that," she whispered. Embarrassment weaved its way through her tone.

Then she pulled her hand away from her face and looked at him. Her mouth turned up into a smile and soon she was laughing. He decided he had never heard anything more beautiful.


	6. The Underwear Ban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund is tired of Brienne's underwear but only growing more fonder of Brienne!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually didn't intend to post this so soon but it's good to go and ready to read. Thank you all for sticking around!

“You’re going to get towed,” Brienne warned as Tormund made no attempt to move. He had said goodbye fifteen minutes ago but here he stood, both hands flat on the wall, on each side of her, with his face severely close to hers. 

She had sent Sansa the usual  _ I’m on my way _ text three hours ago. But it wasn’t her fault, Tormund had tied her up - surprisingly, not literally and she found herself unable (see: wanting to) leave his warm bed. After they left the restaurant, they went back to his place where they essentially finished whatever they started in that bathroom. 

All night.

Could she get tired of sex with him? She doubted it but it was fun trying the experiment out.

“Towed? Pffft. I’m not going to get towed.” 

“And you didn’t have to walk me into the building either.”

“Yes I did,” he argued.

More than likely, he was trying to find out where Sansa and Margaery’s apartment was. She wasn’t an idiot. She expressed her own concerns of him perhaps being seen taking a strange woman to her apartment but Tormund had a good enough argument for that. Being that it was the middle of a work day, he didn’t worry about being seen by anyone. She thought that he was taking a great risk being seen out like this with her but he didn’t seem to care and she wouldn’t push it.

She playfully turned her face away from him when he leaned in to kiss her and he let out a throaty chuckle. God, she loved the way he laughed. It always sounded so low and the rumble was like a vibration.

“So now, you don’t want to kiss me. Couldn’t seem to stop yourself from doing it last nigh.”

She wasn’t fighting him on that. In fact, she wasn’t really fighting him at all. She learned pretty quickly that the more she seemingly pushed him away, the more he seemed to flock to her. This was a little game they played and she enjoyed it so she indulged him.

The warmth of his breath bounced on her skin, causing a tingle in her spine. Occasionally, when he moved his head as he spoke, his beard would rub against her which only made it harder to resist him..

“I really should get inside. Sansa’s going to kill me.” She had the key in her hand and every intention of turning to unlock the door but she was worried he’d never let her get in the apartment.

Sansa  _ was  _ going to kill her. If she was Sansa, she wouldn’t be very pleased right now.

“One little kiss and I’ll leave,” he said softly, his eyes moved over her face and paused at her lips. 

When he stood like this, pinning her against the wall with nowhere to go, he was even more shorter than her but it didn’t seem to deter him at all. Brienne doubted that her height would ever be a problem for Tormund. Back home she was constantly being asked on the rare occasions she did wear heels if “she really was wearing them  _ again _ ” as if her height had been something she had done on purpose or even used to make others feel intimidated. 

It took a lot of self-coaching in mirrors throughout high school to be accepting of her own self in heels. These days comments that were toned down insults rolled like water off a duck’s back. 

“Fine. Only one more...” she said in her strictest voice and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, immediately pulling back before he could kiss her again.

“Shy. Even after I fuck you in a bathroom. That’s cute, Brienne.” She could hear the amusement at her response in his tone. Oh now, he wanted to tease  _ her _ .

“Oh, stop it!” She protested and as she pouted, he moved a hand to cup the side of her face and turn her face to his so they could kiss properly, their lips gently meeting.

Also, there was  _ this _ . He was impeccably gifted at making her knees go weak. His kiss was just as chaste as hers, though much more affectionate.

After he pulled away from her, she smiled at him and shooed him off. He ignored it.

Once more, he kissed her and they were back at it -  _ this _ \- again. Again.

Her eyes slipped closed as one of his hands gently made its way around her waist and he gave a slight jerk, pulling her close to him. The pull caused a gasp and his tongue slipped from between his lips and and trailed against her bottom lip, silently urging her to part her own. She succumbed easily to him, open mouthed kisses happening in the hallway just outside Sansa and Margaery’s apartment now.

He took his time tugging at her bottom lip and slowly, tantalizingly capturing her mouth with his own. A slight tilt of his head made it very aware that he meant business and he would stay as long as she would allow.

The real problem was that Brienne felt herself unable to deny him. His wicked charm didn’t seem to help and the way he quite literally wrapped his lips around her tongue, gently tugging and sucking on it really didn’t make this any easier. 

“Tormund, please,” she whispered against his lips after they both had no choice but to come up for air.

“Please. Please stop? Please continue?”

Someone’s door opened and that did stop him, if just for a little and she was grateful for that. She was also very grateful that Sansa was inside the apartment or else she would have been the one to pull him inside and do god only knew what.

It wasn’t fair that he had the upper hand and even worse now the he knew it.

His hand trailed up her bare leg until it reached her thigh, snuck underneath her skirt, and cupped her behind, giving it a squeeze. Only this time, she did have her underwear, even if they spent half the morning with her trying to get them back from his reach. Brienne had practically chased him around the house wearing nothing but the button down shirt he’d worn the previous night as he playfully held her undergarments out of reach.

But now, Tormund was playing a dangerous game. He had a handful of her behind and was giving it a squeeze and then a massage.

He nipped at her chin and slipped his hand right under the cotton fabric of her underwear...

“Alright,” she reached a hand down and grabbed his wrist firmly, “you need to leave. Didn’t you tell me last night don’t start what I can’t finish?”

His hand moved away from her behind but not before giving it a light tap.

“I’ll see you later, yes?”

“Maybe,” she responded, a little breathless and just a bit weaker in the knees.

She leaned against the door and watched as he walked down the hallway until he found the stairs. Pausing at the top, Tormund looked over his shoulder at Brienne and tossed her a wink. He was obviously going to see her later. 

What a sucker she was.

She really couldn’t believe this was actually happening but it was  _ so _ welcomed and so incredibly needed. And the way her body felt… 

Unlocking the door, she stepped inside to find Sansa sitting on the couch with her arms folded. She did not look very pleased.

“Brienne, you were supposed to be here by twelve and it’s almost two-thirty. What the fuck happened?”

“I know, Sansa, and I’m sorry.” She walked around and sat next to her on the couch. “But I’m here now and I’m going to take a quick shower and I’ll be ready to go in at least fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, you do that. Wash all of him off you,” she waved her hand around her friend and made a face.

Brienne frowned and Sansa sighed, “I’m only teasing. I’m not used to you not being available at my leisure. I mean, maybe I’m slightly jealous... but also  _ incredibly _ happy that you are finally getting laid again. Now, get cleaned up so you can tell me every dirty detail when we visit the museum.”

Sansa never really went for these things. In fact, if she had her way they would just see a movie but every summer she accompanied Brienne to the San Francisco MOMA to look at a few exhibits to appease her. She at least hoped Sansa would enjoy the Pop Art, if nothing else. She tried to meet her friend halfway and she would try especially hard now that she was arriving late to something she planned because of a man.

The exhibit was a mixture of Pop, Minimal, and Figurative Art. Brienne wanted to view them, she really did but it was impossible to focus her attention on it when Sansa was literally tugging at her sleeve trying to pull out every piece of information about Tormund that she could.

“The bathroom? Margaery is going to be so proud.  _ I’m _ so proud!” Sansa shook her arm and Brienne smiled but hid her face all the same.

“This has got to be my best summer ever.”

“ _ Your _ best summer?” Brienne looked at her incredulously. 

She linked her arm through Brienne’s and sighed happily, “Yes, my best summer. My best friend is getting laid by one of the sexiest men in San Francisco thus granting us access to all his tawdry tales.”

Brienne laughed and bowed her head, thinking of their encounter at the  _ Wicked Lounge _ . That one had to go down in a memory book for sure. “Never in my wildest dreams” held a grain of salt with a man like Tormund. Even now as she walked around with Sansa, her thoughts would consistently travel back to him.

Despite the fun she would have with Tormund, the nagging feeling in the back of her mind about her arriving late when she and Sansa had plans was prominent. Arriving late to anything was so unlike her and she didn’t want Sansa to be annoyed with her.

“You know that I’m still here for your and Margaery though, right? You two are the reason I visit San Francisco. I don’t want you to think that-”

“Oh Brienne  _ please _ ,” Sansa rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively, “you’ve visited us every year we’ve been here and that’s five years. Remember all those times you would abandon Jaime to spend time with us? Honestly, I’m glad you’re taking a walk on the  _ Wildling _ side. Treat yourself and your vagina!”

“That was a terrible pun,” Brienne teased.

Sansa had to agree and they both laughed.

After the exhibit, they picked Margaery up from work. She was slipping out of her heels before she even got into the car, the queen of undressing.

“Brienne fucked Tormund in the bathroom of the  _ Wicked Lounge _ .” 

Sansa hadn’t even bothered to say hello. 

Margaery turned to Brienne with a surprised smile, her eyes beaming with pride. It felt like it was four hundred degrees in the car now and she slumped down in the passenger seat, pulling her shirt up to cover the bottom half of her definitely blushing face. Margaery reached around to slap her gently on the shoulder and laughed.

“Woohoo!” She proclaimed, buckling up as Sansa started off.

“You two are embarrassing me,” Brienne muttered, looking out of the window.

“There is no need to be embarrassed. Sex is healthy and wonderful if shared with the right person,” Margaery replied.

“Or the right people,” Sansa added.

Brienne bolted upright in the seat and looked at both her friends, “I cannot afford to have sex with another man.”

She didn’t  _ want _ to have sex with another man was more like it. Tormund had set some high bar and she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to recover after her vacation was over. Perhaps she could keep him on call…

“Brienne, are you seriously going to limit yourself to one guy this summer?”

She perked an eyebrow, giving her friends a stern look. Years of wearing glasses inhabited a natural reaction in her to look over her spectacles, even when they weren’t perched on her nose. She liked that she was being judged for not being sexually intimate with  _ more _ men but if another man entered her life the way The Wildlings lead singer had, she would surely die. 

“Let me be completely honest with you guys,” she paused and sighed, “If another man popped up and did the same things Tormund did to me I would probably die. And I am not being dramatic or exaggerating this.”

Sansa burst into laughter while Margaery nodded her head, as if she were proud of him.

“What’s on the agenda for tonight?” Margaery pulled her ponytail loose and shook her hair until it cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall.

“Are we going to the movies?” Sansa asked everyone, slipping her shades on.

“What are we going to see?” Brienne asked with caution. Her friends had a habit of picking some of the most obscure films she’d ever seen before in her life.

“We’re going to see that movie where the men get captured by the Amazon cannibals.”

“You mean  _ Amazon Cannibals _ ,” Margaery deadpanned and Brienne laughed. Of course, they were going to see a movie about cannibal women living in the Amazon.

Sansa rolled her eyes, “Whatever, we’re going to see women tear the flesh of men apart. Down with men!”

“Down with men!” Margaery quipped.

“Down with men,” Brienne pumped a fist and they cheered loudly.

“Or if you’re Brienne, men go down on you.”

She rolled her eyes and looked off when Sansa cackled loudly.

_ Amazon Cannibals _ was as gory and awful as Brienne hoped it to be. Her favorite scene in particular involved one of the male explorers calling one of the Amazons a bitch and having his penis ripped from his body in the same breath. It was awful and great all at the same time. She spent the majority of the movie covering her eyes and peeking through the space in her hands, making sounds of disgust at the violence, and cheering anytime an Amazon got her revenge.

Sansa got decidedly drunk before they watched the movie but they were fortunate enough to be in a theater full of people that embraced the theory of cannibalistic giant women. 

“Are you sure you weren’t in the movie?” A man that was shorter than Margaery asked Brienne when they were all exiting the theater. 

“She doesn’t like to be bothered when she’s out in public,” Margaery handed Brienne Sansa’s shades. Brienne put them on and pretended to be a starlet that didn’t want to be bothered.

“Please, no pictures,” she said playfully. 

They were halfway to the car when she remembered to check her phone. She pulled her it from her purse and laughed despite herself at the text from Tormund.

 

**_Send nudes?_ **

 

Refusing to reply, Brienne decided to give him a call.

“Send nudes?” She asked when he picked up and before giving him a chance to reply with some witty quip, she continued, “Are you busy?” 

It was midnight and he was still awake, answering the phone. He absolutely was not busy. 

In the background, Sansa and Margaery made loud kissy noises.

“I’m on vacation, gorgeous. I have nothing but time!”

“I feel so special,” she laughed.

“ _ I feel so special _ ,” Sansa mimicked her and earned a slap on the arm from her.

“So what’s the deal? Am I seeing you later?”

“Hmm…” she turned the corner of her lip in thought. “I’ll think about it.”

When they made it back to the apartment, she packed an overnight bag and in an hour’s time, she was arriving at his place. He left the gate unlocked for her and in seconds, she was knocking on the door.

The door opened and he stood in all his naked glory, at full attention.

Brienne gave him a once over then jerked a thumb over her shoulder, “You’re paying for that cab.” She let out a sound of playful protest when he pulled her into the house, immediately peppering her face with kisses.

“I’m paying for the cab?!” He laughed and ran into the bedroom while Brienne stood there, still holding on to her duffel bag. Tormund ran back out with a towel wrapped around his waist and came back a minute later.

He slammed the door behind him and dropped the towel to his ankles.

“Now where were we?”

Tormund looked like some great mountain man stalking towards Brienne and completely in his birthday suit at that. She stood there, shaking her head and crossing her arms across her chest. Still, she didn’t move as he approached closer and then he politely removed the strap from her shoulder and let the bag hit the floor.

“Much better,” he said. 

With ease, too much ease, Brienne thought briefly, Tormund lifted her in the air and put her over his shoulder and carried her into his bedroom. She let out a sound of surprise but accommodated him by letting him lift her with no fuss.

He tapped his hands on her behind like he was playing the bongos and that made her laugh so loudly that her sounds of laughter vibrated off the walls of his hallway. When he got her in the bedroom, he crouched down so she could land on her back on the bed.

She looked up at him and shook her head, “This is so ridiculous.” 

...but not quite as ridiculous as the smile she must have had on her face right now.

“No, you know what’s ridiculous?”

He crawled into bed and propped up on his knees, straddling her legs. Tormund unbuttoned her jeans and a moving zipper was the only sound in the bedroom for that moment.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” She was still smiling.

“Turn over, please.”

Brienne obliged and propped on her elbows, waiting patiently as he pulled her jeans over her backside and snapped the hem of her underwear with a faint pop.

“These fucking underwear. Ridiculous. Just ridiculous. And to be honest, they are my newest enemy. Brienne Tarth, I forbid underwear in this house.”

“Well I know that much is true considering you don’t ever wear any.”

“Playful banter?” He pulled her underwear down slowly and her clothes were creating another growing pile on his bedroom floor. “That’s my favorite foreplay.”

Brienne laughed and looked over shoulder at him. 

“I’d like you to be gentle tonight,” she said it softly, almost bashfully.

“Absolutely, Brienne. I will do...” Tormund had properly positioned himself behind her, “whatever you want or need me to do.” 

He grabbed a condom from the bedside table drawer and she folded her arms to lay her head down on it. His hands smoothed over her behind, a fingertip slowly moving over the dip in her back until his hand covered her shoulder. She felt his weight on her as he moved down, closer to her while his erection moved against her behind.

“Gentle tonight,” he promised in a whisper against her ear.

And just like a door that gave access when the right passcode was entered, Brienne’s legs slowly opened and Tormund rubbed the tip of himself against her entrance. It was enough to build a wetness there and when his teasing was proving to be too much she all but whined for him to enter her and so he did, slowly and gently, just as he said he would...

Into the early hours of the morning, Tormund had Brienne at his leisure. He fucked her in the bed, on the floor, partly on the bed, and at one point followed her into the bathroom where they had went at it again. By the time they were done and completely spent, they were both lying on their stomachs and gazing at each other with sleepy, satisfied smiles.

“The sun’s coming up,” Brienne said softly.

“I know,” he replied just as softly, almost in a whisper.

“What made you want to become a musician?” She asked suddenly, moving closer to him in the bed and resting her chin on the back of his shoulder. 

The question must have surprised him because he stiffened and then relaxed at the skin to skin contact.

“I moved to San Francisco when I was pretty young. My mama was trying to find a better place of leaving as soon as she could ended up getting some job cleaning houses. So try and picture it - five kids in this cramped three bedroom apartment, all of us bigger than what the fuck we knew what to do with ourselves. We had to share one television and my sisters fucking loved MTV. They were teenagers and obsessed with all the shit that comes with it.”

“Like the Spice Girls?” Brienne remembered her Spice Girls obsession quite well. 

“Especially the Spice Girls. I was about seventeen, maybe eighteen when they were popular and my youngest sister never,  _ ever _ shut up about them,” he laughed. “And of course with me being a teenage boy well… you know.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, “Yes, I know.”

“Which Spice Girl was your favorite?” 

They were trailing from the original topic of discussion but the conversation flowed nicely and she didn’t want to interrupt it to remind him of her original question.

“I loved them all for different reasons. Mostly, because I wanted to be as cool as them while being whoever I wanted to be. It’s almost like asking me who my favorite child is.”

“Scary and Ginger for me. For sure,” Tormund said confidently. “They got me through a lot of weird teenage fantasies.”

“I would have pegged you for Sporty or Ginger,” Brienne mused.

“You can peg me for all of them but I probably jerked off to Scary and Ginger the most.”

Brienne slapped his arm and he laughed, feigning innocence.

“What? I was a teenager!”

She doubted he would be any different about his choices twenty years later either.

“Posh.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Really? And here I was thinking you’d say Sporty.”

“Why?”

“Seemed like the obvious choice!” He laughed when Brienne grumbled and rolled her eyes.

“Dunno, you’re pretty athletic in your build. I can tell you played sports in school. You have the muscles in your legs and arms. And your back,” he bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes.

Brienne tossed her head back, loud laughter following. It was unlike her to do this, even when she was with her best friends or her father she still kept those parts of herself closed off. She didn’t have a choice but to be completely vulnerable with a man that fucked her in a bathroom on their first or was it their second, date. Was it even a date? Could it be counted as that?

“Don’t ever stop doing that,” he turned his head at an angle so he could look over his shoulder at her.

She could hardly see him through all that fiery mane but she could tell he was laughing just from the way his voice sounded.

“Stop what? Stop laughing?”

“Yes,” he slowly turned over to rest on his back and she lifted her chin for just a moment then propped herself back on his chest once he was still.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

She sighed and laid her head on his chest. His large hand rested on her back and her eyes closed.

“So what was it that made you want to be a musician because you definitely did  _ not _ answer my question,” she teased.

“I was watching MTV with my sisters and Aerosmith was performing  _ Crazy _ . I decided I wanted to be as sexy and cool as Steven Tyler. They were going crazy over him, practically pissing themselves. I think to myself this dude is skinny and okay looking, you know if you’re into the lizard types…”

Brienne’s shoulders bobbed at his Steven Tyler dig.

“So I get this hand-me-down acoustic guitar and it’s beat up to shit. I had to replace the strings and fix the tuning. I really didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. All I really wanted to do was make girls go crazy for me like Steven Tyler. I start to notice things changing… I’m spending less time playing rugby and skateboarding and now I’m playing the guitar more. My uncle in Norway sends me his records in the mail when I tell him I want to be a rockstar. He was surprisingly really supportive of this path... And I start listening to some Led Zeppelin tunes,  _ Kashmir _ in particular.”

He smiled down at Brienne, “I no longer cared about looking cool and more about sounding cool.”

“Sounding cool,” she mimicked him in a whisper. 

The effects of their adventure in his bedroom were finally taking its toll on her and sleep was starting to get the very best of her.

“Do you think I sound cool?” His deep voice sounded like a lullaby. She had more questions for him, maybe about his family and life before he became a musician but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. 

Now, it would be time for sleep.

“You sound lovely,” she replied absently, then followed it with a yawn. And he did, especially during the early hours of the morning after hours of sex lulled her into her dreams.

She didn’t fight when her eyes slipped closed and eventually her breathing evened out. And then ...sleep.


	7. Pretty Places, Pretty Beings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund helps pull out some things in Brienne she never knew she had.

Sunlight peeked through the curtains of his bedroom as Brienne slowly blinked her eyes open, stretching her arms high above her head. Covering her eyes to shield it from the sun, she yawned and turned to see his side of the bed was empty. The bedroom was perfectly chilled just as she had requested earlier but she was now faced with the conflict of getting out bed in the cool air, wearing nothing but eight hours of sleep. 

There was only one way to handle this, just rip the bandaid and get out of bed. She stretched once more and pushed herself up in bed, looking around. It took a moment but after the first minutes of waking up wore off, Brienne tossed the covers off, accepting the chilly air as it hit the most vulnerable areas of her body and stood from the bed.

She smiled to herself and headed right for the bathroom. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and laughed softly. Unkempt hair and flushed cheeks. The smile in her eyes made  _ her _ smile, the corners of her lips turning upwards. Looking over her shoulder she looked down at the faint pink mark on her behind and chuckled. At some point, he’d playfully bit her on the behind and while she feigned horror the moment he’d done it, the memory made her smile.

Brienne brushed her teeth, put on her glasses, and walked back into the bedroom, still naked.

How long had she been sleeping? And where had Tormund gone off to? Hopefully to get breakfast or fix breakfast… pretty much anything that involved food.

He had a nice little pile of clothing building up in a chair in the corner of his bedroom so she walked over and picked a shirt from that pile of clothes and pulled it on. Not a thing she normally did but there were a lot of things she didn’t normally do before Tormund. 

Instantly, she smelled the scent of him and her eyes closed, basking in his aroma. There was definitely the faint hint of his cologne, cigarettes, and whatever shampoo he used. She decided that from now on she could be calling it Tormund’s Scent.

Biting her bottom lip, she didn’t bother putting any underwear on and her barefeet padded against his wooden floor as she exited out of the bedroom and down the hall. Coffee. She’d love some coffee. The smell of the coffee hit her before she even made it to the doorway.

She stood in the doorway of his kitchen, looking at the empty area. There was a pot of coffee brewing but now Brienne decided she wanted to possibly have a cup with him or at least wait to drink with him. Narrowing her eyes, she walked into the living room and let out a soft sound of frustration when she discovered it empty, too.

On a hunch, Brienne decided to check his back porch. Instead of calling out his name, she decided to go on a quiet scavenger hunt. Maybe she could sneak up on him if he were busy. That’d be fun. It came to an end however, when she discovered him just where she thought he would be.

She watched in silence as he wrote in his notebook, then occasionally look up to hum or recite whatever he was writing out loud. He seemed really concentrated on it and really didn’t know she was standing behind him, watching as he wrote. 

He shifted in the chair and the muscles in his back would move. Who the hell told him it was okay to sit like that in just his blue jeans?

Brienne took a step forward and pushed the screen door open.

“Good afternoon,” Tormund semi-joked, looking over his shoulder and then smiled when he caught sight of her, “David Bowie suits you well.” 

She looked down at the photo of Ziggy Stardust on the shirt and nodded.

His eyes moved to the shirt and then slowly, to her legs where they took in the full length of them. 

“I gotta’ say I’m digging the slutty teacher look.” He was referring to her glasses. “If you tell me I’m failing Chemistry I’m definitely getting up from this chair.”

“You’re failing Chemistry,” she purred and he perked an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m just gonna become a drop out now.”

“Fair enough, I’ve done my job.” She nodded her head.

“I’m sure you’re hungry,” he looked back up to her, almost reluctantly pulling his eyes away from her legs.

She nodded her head, ignoring his eyes focusing heavily on the lack of support the shirt had when it came to her hardened nipples.

“How tall are you?” He asked, suddenly, going back to writing.

She walked over and hovered over him from behind and wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding her hands down just a bit until she was resting against the back of his head.

“Taller than you,” she teased.

“ _ Taller than you _ ,” he mimicked her and she laughed.

“ _ Thou art all fair my love and there is no spot in thee _ ? Are you writing biblical prose?”

“Oh you’re just full of the jokes today, aren’t you?”

“I mean, you’re definitely the one here quoting The Book of Solomon.” 

Tormund’s head turned in her direction and shrugged, “I told you, I’m a History buff and I’m only teasing! By the way, I’m 6’3  _ or  _ if you’re translating this to the true measuring, it would be 191 cm. Which, either way is bordering on half giant or something like that.”

“Well, I suppose that makes the sex all the better, don’t it?” Tormund chuckled, “And to answer  _ you _ question, I’m writing a song which I haven’t done in years.  _ Years _ .”

“Look at you, being all productive,” she said softly and kissed the side of his face. 

She didn’t bother to read what he was writing, she didn’t think that would be polite.

Tormund wrapped his free hand around her forearm as he wrote. She looked out at his backyard and sighed. In their silence, Tormund scribbled a little more while Brienne kept her chin resting atop his head. 

The scratching of his pencil against the paper along with his soft breathing was soothing but Brienne decided she would like him to focus his attention on her.

She kissed the top of Tormund’s head and he squeezed her arm gently. Smiling, she moved lower and kissed against the tip of his ear.

“When you finish will you sing it for me?” She whispered into his ear and tugged gently on his earlobe with her teeth.

Brienne was pleased when his pen stopped moving. She moved her hand up to pull it from his hand and let it fall to the floor. Placing a hand on each thigh, she slipped even closer to him and her tongue slowly dragged against the outer lining of his ear.

Open mouthed kisses were given alongside his face and neck, as her hands moved to his jeans. Tormund shifted in his seat but Brienne did not stop. She moaned softly and slipped her lips down to his neck where her tongue trailed at the most bare area, nipping and sucking. She grabbed his length through his jeans and was delighted to find that he was slightly hard in her hand.

“What are you trying to do to me woman?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” She breathed against his neck.

He released a low, soft growl that came out more like vibration than anything and his voice had become husky, “If you’re not careful, I’m going to have to fuck you on this porch.”

“What’s stopping you?” She whispered into his ear.

Then, a smile spread on her lips as he pushed her hand away and stood from the chair, turning to face her. It was astonishing to see how quickly this man reacted to her.

Brienne felt daring, she wanted to challenge him in the same way he had done with her. She could show him that she could be just as wild as him, if she really wanted. His eyes took in the sight of her again, giving her longest, dirtiest once over she had ever experienced. It made her feel so completely naked and vulnerable that she took a step back until her back hit the wall next to the door frame.

“Alright, Legs.”

Tormund rushed toward her, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down to reveal he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Her eyes zeroed in on his erection, then back to him, a smirk appearing on her lips. He didn’t hesitate to push his jeans down past his hips and stepped out of them. Now he was completely naked, taking fast strides towards her. He gripped the doorframe and lifted one of her legs to wrap around his waist.

“Take off that fucking shirt,” he commanded and she did as she was told, tossing it aside.

Naked on his back porch wasn’t how she planned to start her day but the idea of it, ignited a fire inside her. She wanted someone to hear them, maybe even watch ...let them enjoy the show. Her breath hitched when he rubbed his erection against her opening. She rested her hands on his shoulders and pushed her hips down to rock against him.

Thus began a teasing dance where she slowly rocked against the tip of him, pleasuring herself. Brienne realized he was letting her, his length still in his hand while he stood there, watching her through his own cloudy haze of lust. When her eyes lifted to meet his he was wearing a lopsided grin and his eyes were narrowed.

“Tormund,” she said firmly, her hips still moving up and down, truly enjoying the way it felt against her clitoris.

“I’m not gonna do it until you say it, woman.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she rested her head against the wall of his porch and sighed. She couldn’t but then he wouldn’t and this little game would go until someone would give in. Brienne decided that it  _ would _ have to be her.

It just would...

“ _ Fuck me _ .” 

The words came out in the same way a person pleads for a meal or a drink they had been craving for quite some time and it was now being placed before him. It felt so soothing to say those words, freeing almost. And she did like the way they sounded coming from her lips.

Tormund pushed himself forward and thrust into her with ease now that her body was fully adjusted to him.

“ _ Yes _ ,” she whispered, following with a loud sigh of relief. He wasted no time building the rhythm between their bodies.

Her hands slowly slipped up past his neck until she was cradling the back of his head. She lifted her other leg in the air and wrapped both around his waist. Their lips met in a messy, wet kiss and his beard made gentle prickles against her skin. He took her hips in his hands and held them in place as began to pound into her.

She was completely at his discretion. 

Their grunts and gasps were matched with their thrusts as his hips moved rapidly into her. He had such a tight grip on her, she could barely move. Of course, she wasn’t trying to move either as he steered the course for their back porch encounter. 

Brienne’s eyes opened and she cast them downwards to watch as he thrusted in and out of her. Biting down hard on her bottom lip she released a whimper that sounded more like a whine than anything.

It just felt  _ so good _ . And she told him so in in her soft cries and whimpers.

Her gaze slowly travelled back up to find Tormund’s hooded, dark eyes on her. His tongue was darting between his lips in a deep concentration and there were beads of sweat on his forehead.

She tried to watch for as long as she possibly could but between his thrusts and that dark look on his face, it all hit her in waves, she had to shut them again. She let out a sound of surprise when he pulled her away from the wall and while he was still inside her, moved them down to the floor of the porch.

“Now it’s your turn… to  _ fuck _ me,” he held her hips in his hands then slowly pulled them away, an evil little smile on his lips.

She didn’t realize she was capable of blushing with a man inside her but here they were and there she was. Her face was flushed and despite how nice and windy it was, they were both glistening in sweat by now.

“Fuck me,” he urged again, somehow keeping his hips completely still. “Fuck me like the dirty girl I know you can be.”

Her mouth slowly opened and her expression of shock made him laugh, throaty and deep - she could feel the rumble in his chest. 

Then he said it again, urged her to fuck him. He took her hands in his and trailed them along his chest, fingers moving over the fiery patches of red hair.

“I’m yours, you can do whatever you want to me,” he laughed again.

“ _ Oh god _ ,” she started to laugh with him.

“Come on, you can do it,” he urged and nodded his head. 

“Do it for me.”

She placed her hands flat on his chest and lowered her head, building up her power to match every dirty thing he had done to her in the past few days. He encouraged her in low, throaty growls and her hips began on their own, slow at first and then picking up a speed until she created a rhythm with a nice roll of her hips.

When Tormund’s hands moved up to grab her hips, she grabbed them and pinned them above his head. Now that she was in control, she savored it and she would let him bathe in her pleasure. Or suffer. It was all up to her.

She smiled, lifting her hips in the air. His eyes snapped open and he watched her with pained expression, silent as she began to tease him.

“Now, now Brienne,” he warned and she hovered over him. She rocked her hips back and forth with the tip of his length a whisper away from her entrance.

“I’m gonna get you back,” he said with a laugh.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him, smirking.

“But you said I can do what I want to you,” she said it innocently. 

Lowering back down on him, she started to roll her hips again. He squirmed his arms under her deathlock grip but she didn’t let up. Instead, Tormund pushed his hips up into hers and she released soft grunts.

She stopped her hips and gazed down at him, her grip on his wrists tightening.

“You… said…” she panted and licked her lips, “ _ mine _ …”

Nothing she said would come out in coherent sentences now but he seemed to translate “you said I was in control” pretty well.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease,” he growled playfully, wriggling his wrists around again.

After a brief tussling game, he got one hand free from her grasp and wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her down until her breasts were pressed against his chest.

“Look at me,” he gently ordered, lifting his hips into her in rapid motions.

There was no more talking now as his hips worked to meet hers and she failed to gain control of him again. Her mouth parted in a silent cry and her cheek rested against his face. He held her hip in his hand, thrusting his hips up so hard and so fast, she was afraid she would explode when her orgasm hit. She couldn’t look at him now, even if she tried.

He gave a frustrated growl and jerked her hips down over his, the wood floor creaking from the pressure underneath them.

His hot breath bounced off her ears and a whimper so unlike her came from her lips as she came hard, her body immobilized by the powerful orgasm that overtook her. He fucked her through her orgasm, making her cry loudly and tremble atop him.

“ _ Tormund _ ,” she pleaded, feeling herself slowly fade into nothingness. 

“Shit!” he roughly lifted her up and pulled his length out, coming just as he did so.

Hot, sticky wetness hit her inner thighs and she looked down at the mess he made then looked at him with a look of revulsion. She wiped it from her thighs and then slapped it on his stomach.

“Disgusting,” she huffed at him and his head fell back on the porch floor and he laughed loudly.

“You were the one that wanted to fuck on the porch!” He protested.

He propped on his elbows and looked up at her. She sat on his lower stomach and looked down at him. They were both panting and spent. He was correct, she did want to fuck on the porch and there was not one ounce of regret in her.

“We should get cleaned up and get something to eat, yeah?”

He spoke so casually after they had just caused a domestic disturbance on his back porch.

“Yes, because I am  _ starving _ .”

She lifted up, her legs felt like rubber and she did almost topple over until he caught her. He grabbed the shirt and jeans and they walked inside the house and shut the door.

“Sorry about that…” he motioned to her thighs but it was evident that he really wasn’t all that apologetic by the way he laughed. She shot him a glare and shook her head. That only seemed to encourage more guffaws from him. 

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” she grumbled. “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he tossed his jeans and shirt to the pile of clothes building up in his chair.

“I don’t think I want to know how you’re going to be making it up to me,” she laughed.

He sat on the bed while she went in the bathroom and looked in awe at the large shower in his bathroom. To the unknowing eye, his house didn’t seem that big or perhaps, impressive, given his profession but each discovery was a great one the more Brienne learned of them. 

The bedroom was pretty big but his bathroom was beautiful. Silly of her really but now she realized just how well paid Tormund was as a musician.

“Towels are in the cupboard. Behind you on your right.”

Brienne grabbed a towel but she was still just so enamored with how big his shower was.

“I think I’m in love with your shower.”

It was a walk-in made of white marble with a sliding glass door and a marble shower bench. She looked over her shoulder at him and held out an arm to his shower, completely speechless.

“And it cost me a pretty penny, too.” He nodded in acknowledgement at her praise of the design of it. “Take your shower, I’ll fix us some breakfast.”

With a small nod, Brienne grabbed a salmon colored towel and groaned at how soft the fabric was. She buried her face in the towel and stroked her face against it like a cat.

Brienne would make her shower a nice, long one while he fixed their breakfast. After she walked into inside and turned on the water, she stepped underneath the showerhead and closed her eyes, letting the warm water wash over her. There was something very affirming about not being taller than the showerhead either. 

She took her time, grabbing soap and lathering it on the towel. As she lathered up, she began to hum a one of The Wildlings’ songs.

It wasn’t until Brienne felt a pair of eyes on her that she stopped. Brienne turned to see Tormund sitting on the bed, watching her through the open doorway and crystal clear glass of the shower. 

For a moment, she paused, taken aback at the sight of him just sitting there blatantly watching her. His eyes didn’t leave hers until she was the one to look away. 

But how would she ever keep up with him if her first reaction was to always shy away? The true answer was that she never would. And she wanted to. This would take time, this sudden sexual awakening that was happening to her but she knew that in soon enough time, Tormund would pull the best and worst parts out of her. 

So after a moment of hesitation, she wiped away the build up of steam on the glass. Brienne took the towel and lathered it with more soap. She looked over her shoulder at Tormund and turned her head away again and began to lather more soap over her body.

If someone had told her she would be giving a man a show in his shower, she would have balked at them. But that was before she’d met Tormund. Each moment with him proved that it was always an opportunity where anything would happen. She stepped back under the showerhead and let the water run over her head, washing away the soap from her body. Her hands slowly moved over her breasts and stomach, down to her thighs.

Her hands moved between her legs and she smoothed them back up over her stomach and then covered her breasts. Brienne’s head fell back and the water splashed across her face.

The door slid open and Brienne opened her eyes and was met with Tormund stepping into the shower.

She smiled at him and he returned it, moving in on her immediately.

Tormund cupped the side of her face and kissed her as he slid the door closed behind him. He pushed Brienne to the wall until the back of her leg hit the shower bench. His tongue trailed against her bottom lip and when Brienne’s mouth parted he slipped his tongue between her lips.

Though it had only been seconds, standing there kissing him in the shower had felt like minutes. They were blissful, lengthy minutes that Brienne wanted more of. Tormunds hands rested on her waist and she had taken his face in her hands. The glass of the shower door had steamed up again and Tormund sat her down on the bench. Her eyes followed him as he got down on his knees and looked up to her.

He reached his hands around the back of her legs and grabbed her calves, pulling her forward and parting her legs.

They locked eyes and Tormund kissed inside her thighs. He slowly took his time while Brienne closed her eyes, letting the water hit her face and trail down between her breasts.

She could not believe this was happening again. She couldn’t believe she was ready for it to happen again. There was something about this man, the way he was able to pull every wanton desire from her body - she was like goo in his hands. And she needed more of him, more than she thought she’d ever be ready for.

And then, she felt his lips press against her most sensitive area. Gentle, open mouth kisses between her legs and he took his time, nibbling at her like she was the breakfast he told her he would fix for them. Her toes curled and her stomach tightened at the way his tongue slowly worked its way around her nub, then slipping inside her and slowly pulling away. He created these movement with a pattern. Suck, slip, thrust. And repeated this over and over until Brienne felt that all too familiar feeling in her stomach.

Each time her breathing hitched, he would stop and she felt a little piece of her shatter each time.

“Please don’t tease me,” she cried, opening her eyes to look down at him.

His smirk told her everything she need to know. He did say he would get her back, didn’t he?

Eventually, Brienne’s hand gripped the back of his head, taking a handful of his wet curly hair and pushing him further into her. Tormund did not fight her, in fact, he merely obliged. He lapped at her like she was the last thing he’d ever feast on.

And just when she thought she couldn’t handle anymore, he pulled away and stood to his full height. Now he was erect and ready for her again. 

Brienne licked her lips and slowly lifted her head up to his. He held out a hand and she took it, standing up to meet him once more. One leg wrapped around his waist, then the other and he thrusted into her again, pinning her against the wall of the shower.

She buried her head in his shoulder and cradled her arms around his back as he began to thrust a little more slowly and just a bit more gently than when they were on the porch. 

Eventually, they would get breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's important that Brienne reciprocates her affections for Tormund. He has no problem expressing himself but I feel like Brienne would be a little more work. Writing this story has been a fun challenge for me. She does show him that she enjoys her time with him and doesn't shy away from that, even if it can sometimes be a bit overwhelming for her. Sometimes, people make it seem like it's a crime to enjoy being loved on or even returning it. Especially when it comes to sex, which should be healthy and always fun! Though these two definitely aren't in love (YET), they enjoy each other and it's important that they let each other know that. Anyway, I don't want to ramble but I really just want to write the importance of affection and returning it. Reciprocity is very important in relationships, romantic and platonic.


	8. FaceTime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne spends some time away from Tormund but he doesn't let her get too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back updating again! I missed it :-)  
> Thank you for the reviews and kudos!

* * *

 

Some strange sort of thing happened when Brienne visited Tormund the night she’d gone to the movies with her friends. Not that he’d exactly kept her against her will but somehow he’d talked her into spending almost two weeks with him.

It amazed her.

Two. Whole. Weeks.

The duffel bag she packed barely supported her decision to stay as long as she did but she spent most of her days lounging around in his shirts or in bed with him wearing absolutely nothing at all. Was there a need for anything else, really?

When she did come back to Sansa and Margaery, she was wrapped in a lovely cloud of post-orgasmic bliss. And also, the subject of good-natured teasing from her friends.

“We don’t always have sex.”

Those were the words Brienne had the audacity to utter when she walked back into the apartment with her chin up and chest out. 

No, they didn’t always have sex. 

_ Sometimes _ he liked to spend hours between her legs, snacking on her like she was his last supper. “Last supper” was often a way he liked to reference her and the thought alone was enough to send her into a tizzy of blushing. 

And  _ sometimes _ she liked to return the favor, though she spent an incredibly smaller amount of time with him as he would only last a solid ten minutes. And this was when he was at his best restraint. 

And the bonus? Blowjobs always put him to sleep immediately after. 

Also,  _ sometimes _ , he would spend a lone moment on his porch writing songs. The second week of her miniature vacation within a vacation, Tormund confessed to her that he hadn’t written in years and his time with her was becoming inspirational. He likened her to something like a muse. Actually, no, he’d just told her with complete honesty that she was his muse. And it was the most flattering thing she’d heard before.

She was someone’s muse. She had never been anyone’s muse before so yes of course, they spent that day full of sex and kissing and cuddling but no, they didn’t  _ always _ have sex.

Brienne respected his creativity and didn’t ask him what he was writing but when he told her of the poem  _ Sapphire _ , she secretly wished he would indulge her and let her hear that one especially. It was all just so exciting.

“Sure you don’t always have sex.” Sansa didn’t seem convinced at all. “I can’t imagine you two are doing anything else over there. Do you even come up for air?”

“I’m here talking to you, aren’t I?”

She laughed.

Margaery cuddled up to Brienne on the couch and rested her head on Brienne’s arm.

“Tell us everything. Tell us about the sex. The non-sex. Does he ever play his guitar for you? No! Tell me  _ only _ about the sex. Tormund Gianstbane and sex. I mean, how dirty does he get? Just give me every single, torrid detail. I will not interrupt you. And do be specific, please!”

Brienne was blushing just thinking of half the things they had done together. She wasn’t sure she could repeat it. The little reputation she’d created as the prudent of the three was dissipating in ways she had never planned.

She looked down at Margaery then to Sansa, who raised her eyebrows expectantly. With a sigh, she scooted back on the couch and they moved with her.

“I suppose I could tell you about the time on the porch.”

“Wait, you two had sex on his back porch?”

“You said you wouldn’t interrupt,” Brienne chided Margaery but as the woman pretended to zip her lips, Brienne nodded and added, holding up two fingers, “Twice.”

And she told them about their first time on the porch. 

It maybe started out as just sex but Brienne knew it starting to shift to something else, too. 

Tormund lived and breathed music. And she enjoyed that most of all. Over dinner, they would discuss music. She thought their time would be limited to the house but some nights, he’d sneak her out of the house and they’d go for a peaceful stroll, where he wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.

And when they didn’t discuss music, she was giving him several of her history facts. She loved incorporating his love for music into her love for history. And he listened to everything she told him, would even bring it up their later conversations. 

But she didn’t need to tell Sansa and Margaery this.

Brienne was well aware of the fact that she would miss his presence when she returned back to Austin. She constantly reminded herself that this was only for the summer and after this, they would probably never see each other again. Her life at home wasn’t even a third as interesting as the few days she spent with him or even the summers she spent with Sansa and Margaery. Tormund not included, Brienne always had such a lively time with her friends.

Her life in Austin was a very quiet one. That wasn’t good or bad, just a truth. In her field, most of her correspondence with another human was through email so she didn’t have many friends and the ones she did have were those that she met through Jaime. 

At least eighty percent of his friends were stuffy and insufferable and she found herself enjoying sitting on her couch, drawing designs and concepts on her tablet. Most of her work consisted of architectural design for company heads that wanted to pass it on as concept art for buildings and structures… it was pretty boring work. Her real fun was spent doing online commission work for people that requested art of their characters or fan art. She’d just finished some art for someone that wanted a print of Jem and the Holograms for their daughter’s birthday. That had become a fast favorite.

Needless to say, her life was a very quiet one. Even when she was involved with Jaime, she still preferred her own company. His family had been the absolute worst whenever they had dinners and she had to join him. Time spent with his family had been some of the worst times of Brienne’s life and that was one of the few things she did not miss now that she and Jaime were no longer together.

The ginger, bushy haired distraction in her life right now made her forget about the aftermath of Jaime Lannister. She felt newly whole and was so glad she decided to go home with him that night. Get under someone to get over someone had been Margaery’s advice since they’d broken up. Obviously, she was on to something.

Now her friends were looking at her with very impressed expressions as she told them about their times together. The table’s had turned and Sansa was the one saying that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do half the things Brienne did.

It was the other way around now. So much for a prudent reputation.

“The things he says,” Brienne smiled to herself, “I couldn’t repeat them. I’d die.” 

She wasn’t exaggerating. Had she repeated any of those dirty little things he said to her, she would combust on the spot. Lord knows he made her explode every single time they were intimate.

“That’s a good thing,” Sansa nodded. 

“I’m so happy that you’re experiencing this. Every good woman needs a great sexual awakening,” Margaery took Brienne’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. 

She looked every bit of the proud mother. Brienne could have sworn the the threat of tears were swimming in the pools of her eyes.

“Is that what it’s called?” Brienne inquired, genuinely interested.

“Any man that gets you to fuck him on a porch in nothing but summer glow has definitely contributed to a sexual awakening.”

Yes, that’s what it was called.

Margaery patted her on the leg and pushed herself up from the couch.

“What’s for dinner?” Sansa asked from the couch, grabbing the remote so they could watch a Netflix movie.

“It’s a surprise!” Margaery called back.

Both Brienne and Sansa threw each other knowing glances. Baking had been Margaery’s forte, not cooking. So the pair expected they would either be in the kitchen helping or ordering take out thirty minutes into her cooking scheme.

And so, because they were best friends and it would always be the safest of spaces, they let Margaery order Thai thirty minutes into her cooking exploits. Sitting on the couch, or moreso cuddling, they opted for a Netflix horror movie while they picked at their dinner and talked a little more.

Towards the end of the movie, all three of them had fallen asleep. Margaery curled up like a ball on one end of the couch, Sansa in the middle with her head on Margaery’s shoulder, and Brienne on the other with her legs in Sansa’s lap and head lolled back.

Neither of them made a sound of complaint when they got up from the couch, cleaned up, and quietly retired to their respective rooms. It was time for bed.

At least, that’s what Brienne told them. She knew she had made the promise not to check any of her work and she wouldn’t! She opened up her emails and skimmed over some of the things going at work and rolled her eyes. They were the usual passive aggressive emails titled “per your last email” or “as you stated in the previous email” and she absolutely hated those.

“Just fucking fight already,” she whispered to no one in particular and clicked out.

Her attention now went to a PhD program she had been thinking about for the past year. Profession wise, it would be a huge shift and she wouldn’t be necessarily pursuing life as a graphic artist anymore but her heart was in History. As weird as that may have seemed or sounded aloud.

Well, just one peek couldn’t hurt.

Two hours later with her glasses perched on her face, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed in a white nightshirt and her favorite extra-comfortable gray woolly socks. The air conditioning was cranked up and she was feeling extra productive now. The computer screen was her only light in the dark room as her eyes scanned over the words on the screen. Every time she glanced up at that top right corner to see what time it was, thirty minutes would go by. Funny, that. By now, she stopped lying to herself saying that she would shut the laptop and go to bed.

No longer looking at the PhD programs available in Texas, she was now focusing on her tablet. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but she began some primitive sketches. It was Arya, bassist for the Wildlings band. She’d swapped out her guitar for a sword in her mind and likened the girl to some sort of warrior.

That was all fine and maybe she could give it to the young woman as a gift later. If she was still fooling around with Tormund.

She didn’t think he’d let that stop soon though, considering her presence was helping him write songs. The thought brought a big smile to her face. She hadn’t told Sansa and Margaery about that. Brienne liked to keep that one bit of their time together to herself. It was, she decided, just for she and Tormund to enjoy.

Speaking of the devil, in the top right corner of her screen a small box appeared to indicate that he was calling. She smiled at his name and clicked it, answering the call. He was requesting Facetime. Of course, he was! 

His face grew larger on the screen, moving at first in chopped motion then eventually clearing up.

“Love the lingerie,” he teased and Brienne rolled her eyes.

“You realize it’s after midnight, right?”

“You answered!”

She nodded her head. He was right about that.

“Besides, what are you doing up so late? I know why  _ I’m _ up so late but what’s your excuse?”

“I was waiting for you,” she said playfully.

Tormund gave a loud “pffft” and then added, “Not in that shirt. If you were waiting for me, you’d be naked.”

“Dear god, what is wrong with you?” She laughed. 

“I’m setting the tone here.”

“The tone for what?” She pushed her glasses up on her nose.

“I fucking love those glasses on you. It’s like all my fantasies about my hot teachers are coming true.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Anyway, I’m setting the tone for this conversation. You get undressed, I get undressed…” He paused when Brienne furrowed her brows in confusion, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had phone sex?”

Her laughter ceased and she gave him a stern look, “No, I have not.”

“None of your boyfriends ever tried to get you to slut it out for the camera? They are horrible boyfriends and honestly, a waste of your time.”

No time like the present, right? She sighed and tightened her legs in their crossed position and tucked some hair behind her ear. Tormund studied her closely for a moment, then leaned back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said softly, “I just haven’t had a lot of boyfriends.”

“Okay, there’s nothing wrong with that.” It was such a casual shrug she wanted to laugh.

“I’ve only had one boyfriend.”

He did not hide the surprise on his face. His recover was quick though, as he smiled and shrugged again. 

“Dating is a pain. So you don’t date a lot of men. I, too, respect that. You choose wisely. Most of us -  _ all  _ of us can kind of be a pain in the ass.”

Brienne let her head drop as she laughed. He really didn’t get it, did he? Choose wisely? She hadn’t been given many options dating wise. It wasn’t so much a choice as it was just something she hadn’t been used to. 

It was the reason why she bolted the night he blatantly flirted with her during his performance.  Usually, men made eyes for Sansa and Magaery whenever they were out while she would be the wing woman in the back. 

That was in college, before Jaime. She’d spent years lusting after him, like many of the other students in their Classic Literature while he stood next to the large desk in the lecture hall, quoting Shakespeare. Brienne wasn’t sure why he took to her but when she’d graduated and he eventually became her boyfriend, she considered herself safe from ever having to date anyone else again.

Their break-up had snapped the safety net of whatever conceived notion she had about relationships.

Tormund only seemed to come into her life, grab the safety net, and toss it in the trash.

“No, I’ve only dated  _ one _ man, Tormund.”

“And you’re no longer with him? Idiot.”

Brienne almost found herself defending him. 

She covered her mouth and giggled.

“The glasses, the giggling - you’re just so fucking cute.”

She could tell from his movements that he was sitting down on the couch.

“Seeing your face on the screen, I gotta be honest I’m getting hard over here.”

Even still, after everything they had done, he always found the right thing to say to make her blush. She tilted her head to the side and leaned forward just a bit.

“Are you serious? We’ve only just seen each other!”

Tormund propped his phone downwards and stood from the couch to reveal the lining of his length beneath his jeans.

“Are you not wearing underwear?” Brienne asked in a hushed, surprised voice.

Large hands moved up to unbutton his jeans and Brienne instinctively covered her eyes, letting out a squeal and then clamping her hand over her own mouth to stifle her noises. She didn’t want to wake up Sansa or Margaery. She definitely didn’t want them to come in on her watching Tormund expose his penis to her either.

He was absolutely insane but she was not stopping him.

“Wait a minute!” She whispered, a smile on her face.

She got up from the bed, flipped on the light, and pulled the door to open and see if either of the two women were awake. Sansa’s light was on in her bedroom but music was playing. Margaery’s room was dark so she had to definitely be asleep. 

When Brienne came back to sit on the bed, Tormund wore nothing but a smile, sitting on the couch.

“I’m showing you mine now it’s time for you to show me yours.”

He waggled his eyebrows and Brienne began to laugh, loud and boisterous with her head thrown back.

“You’re mad!”

Both hands were cupped over his groin and his shoulders bobbed up and down.

“You didn’t actually  _ show _ me anything,” her voice went low and her lips pursed.

“Oh come on,” he chuckled, “you got me by the balls here. I mean, almost. Just give me a little peek. I can work with a peek. I’m already getting there with my imagination.”

“No.” She shook her head at him.

“Ooh, you’re gonna make be beg. Fine, I can beg. I ain’t too proud.”

Then the man began to sing The Temptations’  _ Ain’t Too Proud To Beg _ at the top of his lungs. Not that she wasn’t going to do it, but she enjoyed the free show for what it was worth.

“Alright, alright.” She held up a hand to shut him up. “I enjoy the begging but I think you’ve earned a treat now.”

He stopped his performance, sweeping his hair back from his face.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. Actually, I  _ can _ believe I’m doing this.” She shook her head and went to pull the white nightgown over her head. She tossed it aside, revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. 

Her hands went up to cover her breasts and Tormund frowned, “Are you hiding from me? I’ve had those beautiful things in my mouth. Several times. You can lower your hands.”

Slowly, she lowered her arm and straightened her back.

“That’s so much better,” he said softly.

Brienne’s shoulders moved back and she jutted out her chin. Her breasts were pretty okay, she had to admit. They weren’t as big as she had liked but they served the purpose and she didn’t seem to have any problems when it mattered.

“Wow, I really hate you’re so far away from me,” she could hear the desperation in his voice. She liked the sound of it. She moved her hand up to cup her breasts in her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“What are you doing to me?” Tormund asked huskily.

“Do you want me to stop, because I can stop,” she paused the movement of her hands and Tormund jerked straight.

“No, no, no - please don’t stop. Don’t  _ ever _ stop.”

She smiled, massaging her breasts. Her eyes slowly closed and she could hear his labored breathing from his end of their conversation. She took each nipple between her thumb and forefinger and gently pinched, licking her lips. 

Her eyes opened and she watched as he began to stroke himself slowly, watching her very closely.

Shifting up to her knees on the bed, she moved a hand down into her underwear and slowly slipped a hand inside. Her fingers found wetness and then her clitoris where she began to move them around in slow circles.

“Shit,” Tormund growled.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and her hips rocked forward as she found the right stroke that brought her to ecstasy each time she touched herself. 

Each experience always felt like she was doing something for the first time. No, she was not new to self-pleasure. Self-pleasure had been her companion on those extra lonely nights or if she just couldn’t sleep but she had never done it in the presence of anyone else. Not ever. 

She could hear Tormund’s labored breathing and the sound of his hand on skin from his end and it was turning her on more.

When her eyes flashed open, she saw that he was focused on her hand down in her underwear. She watched as he jerked himself off, the two of them keeping a similar rhythm. 

Licking her lips she fell back on the bed and laughed when the Macbook flipped back and Tormund released a loud growl of frustration. She pulled her underwear off in a haste and sat the laptop back up so he could see her.

Taking a deep breath, Brienne laid on her back and spread her legs so he could get a better view. It was easy to pretend like she was alone but she didn’t want to. She wanted to pretend like he was there next to her in the room, strong hands on her legs, parting her thighs. He’d coax her, breath against her and take her into his mouth. He would add a finger and then another…

“ _ Tormund _ ,” she whispered his name, picking up the speed of her strokes. 

Her hips pushed down into the mattress and cried out loudly as her orgasm hit her surprisingly fast. She continued stroking herself, riding out her orgasm until she couldn’t touch herself any longer. Her body trembled and she heard his grunts cease and the own slaps of his skin come to a halt.

“Wow.”

Brienne pulled her hand away and propped on her elbows to look at the screen between her legs. Tormund had gotten up to clean himself off but came back a minute later and sat down. He was flushed and looking slightly dazed.

“Two for two?”

Brienne lifted a leg and closed the laptop with her feet, panting and laughing.

In a minute’s time he was calling her phone again. She hesitated for a while then finally answered the phone.

“It’s gonna take more than a computer get rid of me, Legs.”

She laughed and turned on her stomach to continue the conversation that lasted through the night and into the morning.


	9. Tormund's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund invites Brienne to Khal Drogo's album release party and during the conflict, he unintentionally realizes that he just may want more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been to an album release party but we're just going to pretend like this is exactly what happens. I kept the animosity between Tormund and Small Jon Umber going. Tormund ripping that man's neck was quite frankly the sexiest thing on _Game of Thrones_ , lol. When I first started this story, I had a beginning, middle, and eventual end. Right around chapter ten the chapter took a completely different turn. Which is good because the story will be longer than I originally planned. So, yay???

Tormund sat in his 1968 licorice Chevelle, tapping his fingertips on the side of the car. He was thinking about Brienne and how she told him she _loved_ this car. She didn’t quite love it enough to give him the hand job he’d asked for while he drove her in it but that was a work in progress. The absolute refusal and horror on her face at his request made him chuckle while as he sat waiting for Jon thinking about it.

Picking his best friend up from the airport was always met with relief because no one really cared to stop him. Every band member of The Wildlings were San Francisco natives and at some point, the excitement wore off.  

Tormund was thankful for that. The best thing about them living in San Francisco was the lack of attention they got. There were no paparazzi snapping photos of them as they left the grocery store or a coffee shop… anything that people considered a regular activity during the day. That invasion of privacy was usually saved for their bravest of fans and places like Los Angeles or New York.

Jon walked through the sliding doors of SFO and waved at Tormund as he tossed his luggage into the backseat and climbed into the convertible.

“Well, hello there, pretty boy,” Tormund started up the car and sped off.

The drive to Jon’s apartment was a long one, SFO was a forty-five minute drive from the neighborhood he lived in. Forty-five minutes of Jon being quiet and pale while Tormund asked him questions about New York, recording, and Ygritte was painful. Torturous, even. How long was Tormund going to have to force this conversation until Jon spoke up?

“So are you gonna sit over there like a model the entire drive or should I just turn on the fuckin’ radio? Because I could do that.”

“Ygritte and I got married.”

Tormund was so grateful they were at a red light. There was a strong possibility he would have crashed the car.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Jon sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“We got married. It was Ygritte’s idea, really. We just… had this really intense conversation.”

Tormund was sure that was Jon’s way of saying fucking like crazy but he didn’t interrupt his friend.

“And the next thing I know we’re sneaking off to the Justice of the Peace.”

“Is she pregnant?” Tormund stole a glance at his friend.

“Why is pregnancy the first thing you go to?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what made you do this so abruptly and not fucking _tell_ me!” He reached over and punched Jon hard in the arm. Jon grunted and rubbed the same spot, unable to hold back his laughter.

“We did it before I left,” Jon admitted. “I realized when I was packing and leaving to come back to California that I loved her more than anything. More than music. My guitar. Anything.”

He shook his head and laughed again, “Here I am, leaving the only person that’s ever loved me properly that wasn’t my own mother. And I’m leaving her. Again. I begged her to come back to San Francisco and she asked me to marry her. I said yes and well… here we are.”

Even when Jon spoke it aloud, he seemed in awe at his own decision. Happy and relieved, but in awe for sure.

Tormund couldn’t imagine loving anything more than his music or playing guitar but he had never fully given himself the chance to try that out. He could hear it in Jon’s voice. This was the best decision he had made. It was the best for him.

“You finally fuckin’ got her to move to California.”

“Not yet but eventually, she’ll spend more time here. Right now, she’s going to divide her time between New York and California. Dating an actress has its perks. She can travel whenever she wants. There’s nobody luckier in the world than me.”

He truly believed it. Tormund could hear it in his voice. The man snorted and scratched the back of his head. Jon turned to look at him and a smile crept on his face.

“You’re always teasing me but you were married at one point, too. And I remember you being stupidly in love for a while.”

It was only a short while and Tormund didn’t like talking about his marriage, no matter how brief their happiness lasted.

“And anyway, how many women have _you_ been with since I’ve been in New York.”

“Only one,” Tormund said proudly.

Jon went silent for a moment then laughed, “Don’t tell me…”

“Yeah, so I got lucky with Legs. But her name is Brienne, thank you very much. Every time I’m around her, I lose my shit.” He chuckled, “She’s great, Jon. She’s different and I can’t even explain it. She talks about her job and history and history is one of the most boring things in the world but listening to her talk about it just makes it exciting. And I know that’s crazy but I really think it’s more than just sex with this one. I really do.”

“Sounds a lot like love,” Jon said casually.

It had only been about three weeks. It was a little fast to talk about declarations of love but Tormund had fallen in love with people a lot sooner than this before. All those had crashed and burned though and this was probably going to eventually crash and burn, too. But he liked Brienne and he hoped that whatever came from it, she at least walked away with a smile.

So at the very least, so as not to argue with Jon because maybe he was right, Tormund simply shrugged and made a left turn.

Deciding it was time for a change of subject, he focused it back on Jon and Ygritte’s new marriage.

“Melisandre is probably going to kill you for not letting her know.”

“ _I_ didn’t even know I was going to do it. It just happened.”

“That definitely sounds like love,” Tormund laughed.

“And I’ll deal with Melisandre later. I don’t think she’ll give me too hard a time. She knew this was a long time coming.”

The public knew about Jon’s on again, off again relationship with Ygritte. They hadn’t seen the fights (mostly on Ygritte’s part) or the making up either but it was pretty well known that Jon was never going to leave Ygritte. He’d kind of have to be a fool, too. Nobody else was going to put up with his brooding temperament as well as Ygritte ever would.

Because Tormund didn’t want to endure anymore teasing from Jon, he didn’t tell him how he’d actually gotten the inspiration to write again. Muses were a tricky subject and because Jon’s was in New York and had been his inspiration for writing for as long as the two men had known each other, he didn’t think his friend would understand. A man didn’t need to be in love to write songs about woman.

And even if he was in love with her, there wasn’t anything wrong with that either.

Brienne had abandoned him to spend more time with her girlfriends. She reminded him that they were, after all, the reason she was in San Francisco in the first place. Her parting had been met with reluctance on his end but he needed to focus on last minute rehearsals for Khal Drogo’s album release party.

The owner of their record label, Doran Martell had been a very warm and empathetic man. It always surprised Tormund how just how good-natured the man could be. He’d never seen him at his coldest or even cruelest, but Melisandre assured the band it was a thing. She warned that he only used that behavior for the worst of his Martell Records’ employees and even then, it was executives. Or sometimes, his younger brother Oberyn. But that had only been hearsay on Tormund’s end.

But despite that, his house was paid for, he owned two cars and a motorcycle, and was afforded the luxury of spending his days hiding away in his home if he wanted. All he had to do was go on a few tours, make an album every three years, and show up to parties that benefitted Martell Records. All while doing the thing he loved most.

It was a pretty sweet deal.

So when Melisandre informed them they were rehearsing because they would do a set at Martell Ranch’s label party, Tormund had no complaints.

“I fuckin’ hate label parties,” was all Arya said before cranking up her bass.

“You hate label parties but you love free beer,” Gendry reminded her. She only strummed a loud note on her bass to drown out his chatter.

“Fuckin’ romantic, you two,” Tormund shook his head and rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

He’d been juggling with the idea of asking Brienne to accompany him to Khal Drogo’s album release party for a few days. It was only up until about a day before, he decided to ask her. She had vocally expressed how much she thought Khal Drogo was sexy only just days into knowing him after she’d seen some photos of them together when they were younger.

He was quietly watching her sitting on the far end of the couch with her long legs crossed and a bowl of cereal nestled securely in her lap, as she focused intently on whatever film they were watching. When Brienne mentioned “Netflix and Chill” he didn’t actually think she would make him keep his word on it.

“I know you’re a big fan of Khal Drogo and if I present you with an opportunity to meet him, would you take it?”

The spoon clanged loudly against the bowl and she turned to look at him, slowly chewing the crunching cereal in her mouth. When she finished, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and for a second, he imagined a fourteen year old Brienne and it was kind of adorable.

“Are you serious?” She spoke after finishing the cereal she had in her mouth.

“I mean, take it as nothing. We’re doing a wrap party for his album. The band is going to perform and if I didn’t _have_ to go, I wouldn’t but…” he gave a one shoulder shrug and Brienne’s eyes went wide.

“Khal Drogo is literally the sexiest man in the world.”

“Hey!” Tormund laughed and held out his arms.

“I mean, you’re hot but you’re not Khal Drogo. Don’t take that the wrong way. I’m sure there’s some celebrity you feel the same way about, too.”

He thought about it and narrowed his eyes in thought. There were a few he liked but wow, he realized in that moment, there was no woman he wanted more than the one sitting with him on the couch. It hit him and hit him hard. She sat there with her pretty sapphire eyes and smirk and he knew that no, he didn’t really need anybody else right now.

“I prefer to live in the moment so I’m pretty alright with what I have right now.”

“Well, I am just _so_ flattered.” She put her hand to her chest and went back to eating her cereal.

“No, I’m serious,” he scooted close to her on the couch.

“And how are you going to introduce me?”

“You’ll be my date.”

She seemed hesitant at that.

“It’s okay, I always have a date,” he reassured her.

Her face in response to that didn’t seem entirely assured.

“What I mean to say is… it won’t be out of the ordinary for me to show up with a hot date.”

“A hot date,” she snorted. “And what am I supposed to wear? I’ve never even been to a wrap party before.”

“Well obviously,” he joked.

She pouted at him and he grabbed her hand, kissing her on the knuckles.

“Listen, it’ll be fine. Dress nice and just show up. That’s all I need you to do. And you will look hot. You always look hot.”

“Even now, in my sexy bedroom attire.”

She was wearing one of her oversized nightshirts with her hair pulled back from her face by a white headband and her black horn rimmed glasses. Maybe it was just him but he did think she looked pretty sexy. Still.

“Well, I don’t know. Do you think Khal Drogo would like to see you in a milk stained nightshirt with milk crust on the corner of your lips?”

“I do _not_ have milk crust on my lips!” She protested and turned to him, grabbed a throw pillow, and slammed it hard on his head while he was leaning down.

“You better put that bowl of cereal down because I’m going to get you back for that one. You’ve got three seconds in three… two…”

Brienne had not only put the bowl down but grabbed another pillow and began to him repeatedly, laughing loudly. She hit hard but he was resilient, moving in close on her like she was his prey and he was lurking panther. And then he pounced on her, pinning her down on the couch.

“You know you’re paying me back for that right.”

“And you know I’m not fearful of whatever little payback-”

She released an uncharacteristic squeal when he lowered his head and nipped her on her shoulder, startling her.

 

* * *

 

 

The night of, his limo pulled up to her place. He could see the three of them standing around the door, talking to her and the outline of her tall frame. He could see that she was wearing heels which made her tower over them as they spoke and he smiled to himself.

She took slow, careful steps towards the car and the driver got out so he could open the door for her. In the light, he could see her hair was purposely tousled, she wore a white loose fitting tank top that was tucked into black leather pants, and a look of uncertainty. Thanking the driver, she climbed into the backseat and took a deep breath.

“I hope this is okay. Margaery picked out the heels and Sansa did this to my hair. I’m a little nervous.”

Tormund could tell. He wanted her to feel comfortable.

“You look beautiful. Sexy...” he said softly and moved closer to her once the door closed. His arm was already around her waist, pulling her close to him but when he leaned in to kiss her, she placed a hand against his lips and gently pushed him away.

“No touching any of this until that party is over.”

She motioned to her face and he looked away smiling.

Respecting her wishes would be hard but he would oblige if only he got to rip those pants off her later on tonight.

“You’re going to have fun, I promise.”

And she did! Have fun, that is. She struck up an immediate friendship with Arya. Tormund listened in contented silence as the two women discovered they both had a fondness for the same football team. He was also surprised to discover Brienne’s well versed knowledge in the history of hip hop music. By the time they were being pulled on stage, Arya and Brienne had practically become the best of friends.  He affectionately called them dorks as they ran through catalogs of various rap artists.

But the true highlight of the evening was watching her reaction as she met Khal Drogo, the biggest star of Martell Records. Not even Tormund had managed to get Brienne to open up as quickly the way Khal did when they’d first met. All he’d asked was who Tormund’s _beautiful date_ was and she was sent into a fluster of giggles followed. Not that he was jealous or anything but when Khal complimented her long legs and heels, Tormund did grip her waist just a little bit harder. Brienne had been caught on the Drogo hook, however. She hardly noticed Tormund’s slight twinge of envy.

She only smiled at him and wrapped an arm around him, too.

“Do you mind if I take a photo with you? My friends won’t believe me if I say I met you.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

She handed the phone over to Tormund and he took the first photo of them, Khal’s hand gripping Brienne’s waist and smiles abundant. The next picture, Khal kissed her on the cheek and after he left, her cheeks were bright red and she looked slightly flushed.

“So, you’re going to swoon all night about Khal Drogo or do you think there’s still a little room for me?” Tormund whispered in her ear when they finally had a moment to themselves.

“Are you jealous?” She turned to him with a small smile.

“And what if I am?”

Then she grinned from cheek to cheek and he decided that he was, in fact, falling in love with her.

He walked around the large room, Brienne accompanying him. She was introduced to so many different people but he noticed none of them had the same effect Khal Drogo seemed to have on her.

Oberyn Tyrell, world famous producer and younger brother of Doran really kept the party lively with his loud antics and declarations of love for his wife Ellaria. The long standing rumor had been that he and his wife engaged in a very open marriage and as he was sneaking this but of information to Brienne, a tall bearded man walked past.

He and Tormund exchanged glances, neither of them very friendly.

“Is there something there that I need to know about?” Brienne asked, very amused at Tormund’s open hatred for the man that walked by.

“That’s Jon Umber. He hates me. I hate him.”

She shut her mouth and nodded with perked eyebrows. Brienne asked no more questions about it but he felt obligated to explain in depth why he hated that bastard a little later on.

When he saw Melisandre, walking towards him with Sandor in tow, he knew what was up.

“Listen, I’m going up to do a set. You’ll be fine in the crowd, right?”

“I’m sure I’ll be just fine. How long are you playing?”

“Only for twenty minutes. Don’t worry, if you get bored you can always go giggle over Khal Drogo again. I’m pretty sure there’s some woman somewhere though that may not approve of that.”

“I didn’t think you being jealous would be so fun to watch. And cute, honestly. It’s _very_ cute.”

“I have no worries,” he leaned in close to her and said softly, “It’s not Khal Drogo making you scream at night.”

“Oh, go on!” She slapped him on the shoulder and he ran through the crowd as Oberyn introduced them with the life and zest that rivaled many emcees. It aided the adrenaline that always pumped through his veins before every show.

Looking over his shoulder at the band, they started up with _Lone Wolf_.

Fifteen minutes into their performance, he invited Khal Drogo onstage and let him sing _Eastwatch_ and _Sheila the Bear_. He only did that for Brienne and her surprised expression changed to one of pure delight and then a knowing one as Khal walked right up and took the mic from Tormund and smiled at him.

When Tormund looked over to Arya she rolled her eyes but she wasn’t upset for too long because no one was able to resist the charm of Khal Drogo, his long flowing locks, and all those rings on his fingers. Tormund was pretty sure he smelled like strawberries covered in sugar. Even _he_ wanted to have sex with Khal Drogo.

When he tossed Arya a wink, even she smiled to herself. To get her to smile a person had to move mountains or be Gendry. Or Khal Drogo, Tormund thought quite amused by his charm.

As the song finished, Khal tossed the mic over to Tormund and he caught it with ease. The two men engaged in an embrace and laughed.

“Khal _Fucking_ Drogo, everyone,” Tormund spoke into the microphone and the crowd cheered. He looked around at everyone and saw Brienne standing there with a smile on her face. She wasn’t looking for Khal Drogo, her eyes were solely on him. He felt proud of his accomplishment.

“As you all know, Arya and Gendry are getting married…” everyone cheered again, even Brienne joined in with them.

Tormund waved a hand to hush the crowd of patrons down, “Yeah, yeah we’re happy someone decided that she wasn’t completely terrible, too.”

They all laughed and while Gendry hit a quick beat on his drums. Arya responded with a stroke of her own bass. More laughter followed.

“And that is exactly _why_ these two are made for each other. You see, it isn’t just the fact these two idiots are in love with each other but they’re in love with music. And this is why it works so well. So because love em both, we’re gonna let them show you exactly why they are suited for each other.”

He nodded his head at Arya and Jon and they both began to play with Arya’s bass louder than his.

Tormund cupped his hands around the microphone and sung into, “ _I shoulda’ quit you… long time ago…_ ”

He could see the huge grin on Brienne’s face. Of course she knew the song. Who didn’t know Led Zeppelin’s _The Lemon Song_? It was one of his favorites to play because it gave Arya and Gendry the opportunity to play off each other.

Tormund also took this as a stolen opportunity to serenade Brienne. Then the tempo in the song sped up and Arya really killed it. She stood next to Jon and they went back and forth and then Tormund joined in with them. His fingers moved across the strings in rapid movements and when he looked up to see Brienne in the crowd, he kept his eyes locked with hers.

Sweat poured down the sides of his face, his hair and beard were damp and his fingers felt like they were going to fall off, but the look on Brienne’s face was enough to keep him going all night if he had to. Tormund’s face tightened into a concentrated frown as he focused his attention back on his guitar.

He started singing again, looking back at the band in then to the crowd nodding his head.

Brienne took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

They were probably fucking in that limo.

No, they were definitely fucking in that limo.

“How about it, one more song?”

Tormund looked back to Arya, Jon, Gendry, and Hot Pie. They were all smiling, sweaty, and ready.

“I guess that’s a yes.”

The crowd clapped and cheered as Tormund fired up his guitar. He hadn’t intended for this to last so long but when they started, sometimes it was hard to stop. He and Jon even had a miniature guitar battle on stage, encouraging Arya to bring up the rear. Gendry’s drum solo was always a favorite and when Tormund looked out to the crowd as Gendry fired away on his drums, he caught Brienne being distracted by her cell phone.

When they reached the end of the performance, he noticed that Brienne was nowhere to be seen. He looked through the crowd of people and frowned. Something didn’t sit right with him but he did have a flair for the dramatic at times. At least, that’s what Davos loved to say.

As he made his way off the stage and was handed a towel. He wiped his face clean and looked around once more.

“Have you seen Brienne?” He asked Melisandre after his congratulations from a few people in the crowd.

Melisandre looked up from her cell phone at Tormund and shrugged.

“Last I saw of her she was using her phone out back.”

The rest of the band got off the stage behind him and Sandor packed up their instruments. Before Tormund made his way towards the Martell Mansion backdoor, Melisandre grabbed him by the arm in a death-tightening grip.

“Where is this going?”

He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“With her? Where is it going with her?”

He imagined she was only doing this because Jon married Ygritte without any announcement. There were no wedding bells happening here.

“We’re fucking. You happy?”

Melisandre narrowed her eyes and dug her nails into his arm just before her jerked it away and turned to walk with a sneer. Mother and manager.

Just as he reached the backyard, he saw the small crowd of people standing near Brienne. She looked annoyed if anything.

“I don’t know what happened,” someone said softly.

They didn’t know what happened? What the hell had happened?

Off to the right, Tormund saw Jon Umber cradling his nose. His own entourage of assholes stood around him. He kept his eyes on the group of men but a tall, blonde distraction came his way in the form of Brienne, briskly stepping in his path.

“Everything is fine. I promise.”

“What the fuck happened? Are you alright?” Tormund tilted his head upwards to her.

Brienne sighed and looked down, “Your friend… the one you hate,” she motioned her head in the direction and continued, “He got a bit fresh but it’s fine. I didn’t-”

She put her hands to his chest but Tormund was already seeing red. Rage built inside him quickly and he shoved Brienne’s hands from his chest and turned from her to charge right for Jon Umber.

“I really fucking hate you,” Tormund started, balling his fists up. “And now I hate you even more for bothering _my_ woman.”

And then there were arms swinging and bodies flying. The two men hit the ground with a hard slam and Tormund knew he would feel that in the morning but adrenaline and pure hatred made him completely numb.

He thought of the time Umber slapped Arya on the behind without her consent and it took everything in Sandor’s power not to kill him or let the others at him either. And now he thought he was going to get physical with Brienne? Was this his idea of getting back at Tormund for the punch he’d flung at him that time with Arya? He’d heard the stories about him continuously harassing women and nobody doing anything about it. And now everyone just stood around while Brienne was clearly shaken up and he did god knows what. Not on his watch.

 _Never_ on his watch.

This hatred ran deeply, deeper than anyone knew.

A fist connected with Umber’s already bruised nose and the man released a loud groan of pain.

Behind him, Brienne screamed for him to stop but he ignored her. Tormund had the advantage, he’d sat on Umber’s chest and swung hard again, pounding a fist into the man’s eye. There was more yelling at him to stop but he couldn’t be bothered with any of that. This was an ass kicking for old and new.

He wasn’t sure who pulled him off the man eventually but he had a bloodied lip and hurt ribs.

In the middle of all this, his band members were being held back opposite Umber’s entourage.

“The next time you put your hands on someone I care about, I’m just going to fucking kill you!” Tormund pointed and shouted as he was being pulled away from Umber by one of Martell’s bodyguards.

Melisandre was standing there while Sandor had a strong arm around Tormund’s shoulder. To the blind eye they looked like two friends just casually standing next to each other but Sandor was actually holding him down.

Her glare at Tormund reminded him of the times his mother was pissed beyond reasonable doubt.

“Your temper is exhausting,” she sighed and shook her head.

“Go home and sleep it off.”

Tormund snorted and looked over his shoulder. He turned around to see a very pale Brienne. She looked at him like he almost frightened her, but Tormund knew that Brienne wasn’t afraid of him.

He turned back to Melisandre and gave a sigh.

“I don’t _need_ to sleep it off. What I need is for this motherfucker to keep his hands to himself. I’m sick of his shit. You’re a fucking pervert,” Tormund pointed at Umber’s retreating back. “Nobody fucking likes you, my friend. Nobody. But me? I fucking _hate_ you.”

“Alright, that’s enough you big idiot,” Sandor grumbled.

It took some time to calm Tormund down. Brienne somehow stayed quiet the entire time Jon talked to him in assuring tones that Jon Umber wasn’t going to ruin the rest of their party. He wasn’t sure he liked that so much.

So when they did eventually get to the car and she bypassed him to get inside without so much as uttering a word at him or anyone, he was already dreading this car ride.


	10. Every Other Freckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund does ...the most™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a busy week! I meant to update this earlier but March is such a busy month, full of birthdays :-) I hope you enjoy the update! Thank you for all the reviews and new readers! It makes my shippy writer heart so, so happy!

He expected the anger. He even expected her embarrassment. What he did not expect was the reason why. From a logical standpoint, her anger at his public outburst against Jon Umber was not out of the ordinary. His temper did get the better of him at times and he shouldn’t be fighting in public but Jon Umber actually  _ really _ had that coming...

“I  _ told _ you, I was perfectly capable of handling myself!” She fussed at him, the moment their driver closed the limo door. 

Tormund definitely found no fault with that either. Not that Brienne needed him to come to her rescue, but he was sort of responsible for her at this party. If something had happened to her he wouldn’t forgive himself. And a guy like Jon Umber… anything could have happened.

But because she was angry and he was already angry, this situation was only escalating into something worse than it should have.

“Did I say that you weren’t?” He was going through the conversation in his mind trying to remember what exactly he  _ did  _ say.

Brienne frowned, “You didn’t have to say anything. In fact, you showed me well enough that you clearly don’t know how to listen to me.”

“What happened? At least, tell me what he did.”

“Does it matter now? You’ve already  _ avenged _ me.”

There was such an icy edge to the word ‘avenged’, Tormund had to turn and look at her in disbelief. She was still gazing out the window. He could only see the side of her face but her jaw was clenched and she flared her nostrils repeatedly. 

Did she not understand the way this worked? He would have looked like a complete asshole had he not stepped in and at least punched that fucker in the face. Besides, isn’t this what he was supposed to do? It was his job to take up for his…

Surely, she wasn’t angry about  _ that _ . The thought was fleeting - maybe Brienne didn’t want him. Not really. Maybe she was just around for the fun and excitement. 

“Calm down, Cupcake, I was merely doing what any man would have done.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

She went silent again and shook her head in disappointment.

“So is this how the night’s going to end?”

“It absolutely is. I’m going back to the girls’ apartment because I’m tired.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have called her ‘Cupcake’ but she was being ridiculous right now. He didn’t understand why she was acting this way.

“Furthermore, what is this  **_my_ ** _ woman _ nonsense?” She turned to look at him, her face tight and cheeks flushed. “When did we make this decision and why was it made without me? And you know what, I’m a lot of things but I am not your damn Cupcake so never,  _ ever _ call me that again. That caveman mentality is not attractive on you, I can tell you that.”

Tormund laughed but there was no humor to it. His eyes scanned over the mini-bar, looking for something to drown out just how irritating her voice sounded right now as she fussed.

“We’ve been here fucking and dating for a month, Brienne. What the the fuck else are you?” 

She sighed and put her chin in her hand.

“The  _ person _ that you’ve been fucking and dating for a month!”

Her reply came out quick and choppy. It was direct. It felt like each word slapped him across the face. Tormund turned his head again in Brienne’s direction and he gawked at her. She knew he was looking because she jutted her chin when he refused to pull his stare away. 

Tormund caught the driver looking up at them through the reflection of the mirror and smoothed his hair from his face.

“Roll up the fucking partition, please! Yeah? Could you do that?”

“I don’t know why you’re talking to him like that. Do you have to protect your woman from him, too?”

As the window rolled up, he turned his attention back on Brienne.

“We were having such a good night.”

“And you ruined it, didn’t you?” And for good measure, she replied coolly, “Cupcake.”

Tormund looked down at her hand resting on the seat between their bodies. She was absolutely justified in his anger but he was stubborn. And he always had points to prove, no matter how ridiculous that may seem at times.

Tentatively, he reached his own hand out and covered it with his own. Her hand stiffened and when he looked up, he could see her eyes in the darkness narrow, they had softened. And then, suddenly, she snatched her hand from under his and put it in her lap.

If this was how she was going to do it…

He grabbed her hand from her lap and she jerked her hand again.

“What is your problem?”

“I’m trying to fix this.”

When he reached for her hand again, she slapped it and Tormund had to admit the tap was pretty damn hard. He thought about when he came outside to find Jon Umber holding his nose and Brienne staring him down like she possibly  _ could _ kill him. The top of his hand was stinging but he ignored it.

“Maybe I don’t want to fix it right now.”

“So there’s some fire burning in that pit after all,” he said mockingly.

“Oh, there is so much fire,” Brienne laughed humorlessly and turned to look at him, “and if you don’t leave me alone, you will most assuredly get burned.”

“Wait, so  _ I’m _ not allowed to punch someone in the face but you can make threats?” 

“Oh, please,” she muttered.

“Brienne, please, let’s not do this,” Tormund tried to gently grab hold of her arm.

“Let go of my  _ arm _ ,” she said through gritted teeth.

She yanked her arm hard, enough to jerk him forward but Tormund held his grasp. She was fighting him, or she was trying, but he was much stronger than her.

“I will let you go but I just want to talk and-”

“Tormund, I’m really angry at you right now and I don’t  _ want _ to talk!”

A tussle began between the two and Tormund was right in his earlier thoughts, Brienne could hold her own just fine. It didn’t matter though. If she was strong, he could be stronger. Each time she jerked from his grasp, he used it as an opportunity to pull her closer.

His body was traitorous. It seemed the angrier she got with him the more he was turned on. He could feel the early twitch of a growing erection in his jeans. Tormund almost felt guilty for pulling her a little closer and watching as one of her hands broke free and slapped at his bicep.

“Let me go!” She grumbled.

The limo driver didn’t make any moves during their shouting match. He didn’t pull the car over, roll down the partition to ask if they needed anything… nothing. Tormund figured this man must have seen and heard it all by now.

“What the fuck are you to me?” He asked again, except this time it didn’t come out loud and booming as it had before. His face was close to hers and she wasn’t trying to pull from his grasp any longer. 

Hook. Line. Sinker.

“I belong to nobody,” she bared her teeth at him.

If that was supposed to turn him on less, it did the  _ exact _ opposite. 

Seemed like she was enjoying this just as much as he was. He jerked her closer to him and their lips pressed together in a passionate kiss. 

The grip he had on her wrists tightened and she made a sound of protest against his lips. But then they weren’t sounds of protests… she was actually  _ moaning _ . 

This didn’t solving anything that sparked the argument but he no longer cared. Tormund knew fully well that Brienne wasn’t changing her stance about his comments at the party. He even knew he was wrong, but he purposely egged her on. And maybe when this was all done and they made up from it, he could process the weird feelings that bubbled at the surface of his mind and heart. But now, all he wanted to do was fuck her in the back of this limousine. 

He took her wrists and moved them to wrap around his neck, and pulled her into his lap. She purred just like a cat, he thought, as she moved into his lap with little to no protest.

He moved forward on the seat so she could straddle his waist. The back of the limousine was spacious but with all the legs between them, the space was still a little cramped.

Tormund’s hands gripped her behind in his hand and he gave it a firm squeeze, pleased at the sound she made into his mouth. Uncaring he leaned back from her and pulled her tank top over her head, tossing it to the side. His hands reached around to unclasp her bra and once he got that undone he tossed it next to the shirt. Her head fell back as he took one breast in his mouth, sucking loudly and groaning against her skin.

His eyes slowly lifted to watch her writhe and moan and cry. Tormund captured her entire breast in his mouth and flicked his tongue over her hardened nipples in fast motions.

Brienne cupped the back of his head, pushing his head roughly against her chest. His eyes never left her, watching as she pulled her on her bottom lip with her teeth. Goddamn, she was so sexy.

He pulled back only when he needed to come up for air, then he gave the same attention to her other breast. He tugged at her nipple with his teeth and Brienne let out a whine. The blunt tips of his fingers dug into the exposed bit of her flesh.

Brienne’s knees pushed down into the seat and the friction from her pants and his jeans made him throb almost painfully. If he didn’t get his dick free, he was going to die. Her hips started grinding down against him and he released a guttural sound of pleasure. His hands moved to her hips and pushed them down as his instinctively moved up. Her longs arms lifted above her head and she pressed her palms flat to the ceiling of the limousine and used that as leverage to push her hips down more firmly. 

She was a sight, her hair even messier now and the sweat causing her makeup to smear. Her lips were parted and her eyes were shut in determination. He looked down at her breasts watching them jump each time she moved her hips up and down.

“You’re trying to fucking kill me…” he grabbed her hips in a tight hold and pushed her back only to have her shove down on him harder.

His arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted up from the seat and laid her on the long seat that was against the wall of the car. They looked at each other for a moment, both of them panting. The moment was fleeting but it felt like forever before they both hurriedly began unbuttoning their respective articles of clothing, his jeans and her leather pants. 

He already had his down past his thighs and she was taking too long for him so he grabbed the pants by the ankles and pulled them off until she was in her underwear. Had they spent the evening laughing and perhaps enjoying drinks together, the image would have been funny but neither of them were in the mood for laughs right now.

“What did I tell you about these things, hmm?” Tormund tugged at the hem of her underwear and let them snap back on her skin. 

His fingers clutched the top hem of them and tugged them down, the sound of a rip followed. Her underwear, now torn and surely ruined was added to the pile of clothing building up on the limo floor.

Tormund pulled his shirt off and threw it aside, grabbing her by the hips and pulled her down to meet his.

There was no time for games or casualties. They both knew where this was going and when he pushed the tip of himself against her entrance, he was met with wetness.

Thrusting into her, she cried out loudly and he cursed, letting his head drop. He gripped her hips roughly and fucked her with no inhibitions. His eyes scanned over her body, zeroing in on the way she bit down on the back of her hand.

He took her hips and pounded himself fully into her. She arched her back high off the seat and he did it again. Each time he did it she her cries grew louder. He didn’t know why, but now he had a severe point to prove.

Maybe Brienne didn’t realize it but she had him. He wanted to be hers and she wanted him to be his. And now, he was trying to prove that with each, purposeful thrust. 

Tormund had a vice like grip on her, digging his fingers harshly into her skin. He knew his fingertips would leave bruises and later, when they were cuddled together he would kiss every single one he made.

Tormund lowered down to her, still thrusting wildly in and out of her. She hooked her arms under his armpits and dug her nails into his back and dragged them down slowly over his skin. It stung, he knew she would cause welts at best tomorrow but right now, none of these things mattered. 

He was hers. He need her to know this. He needed her… to know.

The pressure that was building in him came at a quick pace. 

“Brienne,” he warned, his hips still thrusting roughly into her.

“ _ Fuck me _ ,” she commanded, opening her eyes to look at him. 

Not once in all their times together had she demanded him to just outright  _ fuck _ her. Sure, he had, but that was because he had grown to know the nonverbal responses her body had to his touches. 

Now she was telling him to do it and who was he to disappoint, so he held on to those hips and pounded until he could pound no more and he was emptying himself inside her, shuddering and grunting. Her hips were pinned down to the seat. 

He came so quickly and it was one of the rare moments she hadn’t, he was disappointed with himself.

They were both panting as he slowed his hips to a halt.

Brienne propped on her elbows and looked at him in the darkness of the limousine. 

“Do you still want to go to Sansa and Margaery’s apartment?” He asked softly and cautiously as he pulled out of her and grabbed one of the towels by the bar, then throwing her one.

He cleaned himself up in the silence that followed them. It was the heaviest thing he had experienced.

Finally, after she did get cleaned and moved from the seat to get dressed she turned away from him and pulled on her shirt. He watched her fold the bra and tuck it into the pocket of her leather pants. After a moment of silence, she looked to the side with her back to him and quietly responded.

“Yes.”

Seriously.

_ Seriously _ ?

The limo was getting closer to the neighborhood of her friends and he zipped his jeans up. He watched as she struggled getting those tight leather pants on, refusing to help her. Her tits bounced in the shirt and he shifted in his seat, watching her in mesmerized silence. He thought of the time Brienne had complained about her breasts but Tormund thought they were just perfect. Absolutely perfect, wonderful, and delicious.

_ Easy boy, you  _ **_just_ ** _ finished. _

The car came to a stop and a short minute later, the driver was opening the door on Brienne’s side. She was sitting on the other side now so she crossed over Tormund, his eyes raking over her as she moved to the door and she did not bother saying goodnight or looking back as she headed up to the entrance door. She walked up to the steps, she pulled off her heels, and disappeared through the door.

Tormund watched her leave and the anger he had at her as she got dressed, slowly disappeared. The driver shut the door and headed back around to the driver side. The car was moving once again and he sat there, with his elbow on the armrest, looking out of the window. The houses were a blur as the driver picked up speed.

Wish a sigh, he leaned forward and knocked on the window. The partition slowly rolled down and the driver turned for a moment to look back at Tormund.

“Hate to be a bother but can you do me a favor?”

Twenty minutes later, he was back outside the fucking apartment.

“Thanks, bud. No need to wait. I know you want to get home, too.” He patted the driver on the back, tipped him, and headed into the building.

Her friends could have been home. Someone, anyone could have seen him. It was enough mistakes being made right now to get lectured for at least an hour by Melisandre but Tormund was sure she had her hands full with Jon anyway.

For whatever reason, he decided not to buzz his way up. While he waited for someone to come down, he leaned against the stair railing.

Was he actually doing what he thought he was doing? Yes, he was. He wasn’t sure how this was going to work but felt very about the idea that Brienne was worth taking a chance on. He could try it. If things remained the same between them then he would be okay with that but if they became something more, he would be okay with that, too.

Tormund learned from his first marriage to be very honest with what he wanted. Marrying Maege had been one of the greatest but also worst things he could have done. He wasn’t ready. He had points to prove. He learned the hard way about jumping the gun with her. After seeing the look in Jon’s eyes as he talked about finally marrying Ygritte, knowing that he was ready really got Tormund thinking.

How long was he going to jump from woman to woman before he passed up the right one?

And maybe, Brienne was the right one. He felt it.

He hoped.

He almost missed his opportunity to head inside the building, he’d gotten so lost in his thoughts.

A loud group of people, they had to be teenagers, came traipsing out through the main door. They were so busy talking about some party that none of them notice Tormund as he slipped past and caught the door before it would close and lock again. In a minute’s time, he was at the apartment that belonged to Margaery and Sansa.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. Apartment 1422.

He could hear the footsteps through the apartment getting closer to the door. There was a pause and then the door unlocked with a click and it was pulled open. Brienne stood on the other side of the door with a blank expression.

Tormund took a step forward and closed the door behind him.

She had already had her shower, the makeup was wiped clean from her face, and her hair was in wet curls tucked behind her ears. He licked his lips and cupped the side of her face, leaning in to kiss her. She did not pull away from him, not that he expected her to.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

Without saying anything, she turned and took him by the hand, leading him down the hall. They stopped at the second door on the left and when they walked inside, she closed the door behind them. For a moment, he stood there as if he were unsure what his next move would be.

Brienne stood there avoiding his eyes, focusing all her attention on the door. Tormund stepped forward and kissed the back of her neck. She took in a deep breath and released it slowly.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I need you to know that.”

He turned her around so they could face each other. Tormund took her face in his hands and held her face, gently rubbing his thumb over Brienne’s jawline.

“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did and I know this but sometimes the hands move faster than the brain, you know? I’m a fucking idiot at best-”

“You’re not an idiot,” Brienne quickly replied.

“But I’m sorry and I’ll never make decisions without your consent again. I was just feeling some weird way. I…”

Tormund shook his head. He didn’t have anything else to say. Stepping back, he pulled her nightgown up and over her head. He set aside and squatted low to pull her underwear down. He lifted his head and waited for her to patiently step out of them. And so she did.

He gazed up at her, caressing his hands up and down the smoothness of her legs. Tormund moved in close and slowly kissed his way up her legs, along her mound, and to the swell of her belly. Brienne ran her fingers through his hair. When he was standing again, he captured her lips in another passionate kiss.

“Let me show you,” he said in a whisper.

He walked over and sat down on the bed, looking at her as she walked towards him. His hands trailed up her long thighs and he buried his face in the softness of her stomach and inhaled. Whatever soap she used to shower smelled delicious. Her hands gingerly stroked the sides of his face and she took it in his hands.

Tormund pulled her down to the bed to sit next to him.

They kissed once more then Brienne moved to lie down in the bed. Tormund looked down at her and placed his arm under the small of her back and flipped her over on her stomach. He hovered over her and pressed kisses along her shoulders, broad and strong, muscular. Perfect. Down along her back, darting his tongue out to taste her as he moved lower.

His lips pressed to her backside, giving it open mouthed kisses. Her body tensed and he moved a hand between her legs, circling his thumb around her clitoris once he found it. When Brienne’s back arched and she released a soft moan, he began giving her open mouthed kisses on her behind again.

He hesitated a moment then moved his head lower and began to lick and tease her between her ass.

“ _ Oh _ !” she cried out and he smiled against her, burying his head in deeper.

When he stole a glance up at her, she was lying flat on her stomach with her face buried into the pillow, trying to her best to keep quiet.

Tormund pulled back and moved onto the bed until he was lying on his stomach between her legs, which were spread for him. His tongue moved from her clitoris and back up to her asshole, back and forth until she had begun her own rhythm. He wanted all of her,  _ needed _ to taste every inch of her. He rolled over on his back and grabbed her hips to pull her until she was sitting on his face.

He let her control her hips, simply moving his tongue around in circles as she rocked against him.

His hands gripped her behind and took the nub of her clitoris between his lips and sucked and nipped gently until she was moving her hips in uncontrollable jerking motions now. Her thighs tightened around his head but he continued on, satisfied that she had nothing to drown out her loud sounds.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled her down even lower until most of her weight was on him. Tormund inhaled her, living in the scent of her sex. There was nothing more in this world than he wanted now. He wanted to live in her.

“ _ Oh god - oh - oh- _ ”

And then her body convulsed and she spasmed as her orgasm took over her. He grabbed her hips and held her down, despite her attempts to lift. She let out the loudest sound, a high pitched gasp and rode it out right on his face. When her hips eventually slowed to a stop, he cleaned her up with his tongue and waited for her to move from him patiently. 

When she did, she collapsed to the bed, landing on her stomach, panting. 

Tormund got up from the bed and Brienne frowned.

“Where are you going?” Her voice was raspy from all the loud cries.

“Home.” He licked his lips and looked at her naked, spent body on the bed.

She seemed unable to speak.

“I think I should, don’t you?” 

Brienne didn’t respond.

“So I’m going to leave and respect your wishes.”

And without saying goodbye, he turned away from her and left out of her bedroom. He paused when he saw a wide-eyed Sansa and a very amused Margaery sitting on the couch.

“Ladies,” he nodded his head to them and made his exit. 

He hadn't wanted to leave but he really felt that everything transpiring was too much for him. Maybe too much for her??? And in the end, if she wanted she could come to him too.


	11. Brienne's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne now finds herself in a dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a long pause between the updates. I was working on a lot of personal stuff but I'm back! Thanks for sticking with it, glad y'all are enjoying the story!

Brienne gazed at the door where he just made his exit.

The small voice in the back of her mind told her to get up and chase him down. _You fool, go get the man and tell him you’re his_ …

But she couldn’t move. Try as she might, it was hard to even push herself up from the bed. Not that she would have if she could. She was still lying naked on her stomach, breathing heavy and watching the closed door. This wasn’t supposed to go like this. How did they transition from spending their summer as a fling to him making demands that she be his girlfriend?

Well they hadn’t entirely been demands but she could hear it in his voice, the way he became angry at her for being angry at him. It was rather confusing for her and then there was _this_.

She slowly turned on her back and sat up in bed. Sansa and Margaery would probably be coming in with the sun. That was their habit and just because she was spending the summer with them, that still didn’t mean she could keep up with the two-hour time difference between California and Texas.

And then there was Tormund, who had left her physically and emotionally spent.

Her experience with love and men was small, embarrassingly limited when she thought about it, but she was very sure of the fact that he would never say something he didn’t truly mean. And he wanted her.

Actually wanted _her_.

It was surreal.

And the sex… god, her body was _still_ buzzing from his impromptu return to her. Never in her life had that been done to her. She could confidently say that she had known Jaime Lannister for almost half her life and he’d never even mentioned doing something like that. Like _that_.  

Somehow, Tormund always seemed to leave her mind and body in a state of blissful shock. She barely recovered from their time in the limousine. How could he just come in here and do those …things to her? And she let him. She _wanted_ him, too. It scared her how much her body reacted to him.

Even after the limousine, she needed to make it a point that everything couldn’t be solved with sex. She could be firm when she needed to be.

It took her a minute or two but she sat up in bed and walked over to grab the nightshirt he so graciously pulled off her. She didn’t bother with the underwear, slipped into a pair of shorts, and tucked the undergarments away with her little pile of dirty clothes. Her eyes locked on the discarded leather pants and she swallowed. The knock at the door startled her.

“Are you decent?” It was Margaery in her ever-calm tone.

She didn’t say anything for a moment then Sansa chimed in, “Brienne, we already know Tormund was here!”

“Yes, darling, we already know.” Margaery’s voice sounded saccharine but nothing eased the embarrassment of Brienne knowing that they knew she was moaning on the other side of this door.

She slowly walked over and pulled the door open with a sigh but was surprised to see Margaery and Sansa standing there with a large bag of chips and a bottle of wine.

Then, because they were friends and it wouldn’t be any other way, both women fell into fits of laughter. Brienne watched with a deadpan expression as they doubled over, laughing so hard they were cackling like maniacal witches.

In the middle of their laughter, Brienne cleared her throat.

“When you’re done laughing…”

Sansa laughed harder and Brienne rolled her eyes. Eventually, their laughter subsided and they were giving her their best looks of sympathy. Even if the sympathy wasn’t too genuine. She would take it. She didn’t mind the teasing, she would have done the same.

“Your hunk of lover left out of the apartment and we saw the look that one has after they’ve lost a battle, we figured you might want to talk about it. And even if you don’t want to talk about it, we’re going to make you.”

Sansa grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the room.

“How late is it?”

“Er, I think you mean how early? Honey, it’s three in the morning.”

“Is it really?” Brienne asked, keeping her tone as casual as she could.

“Yes. Tormund was in there for about thirty, thirty-five minutes,” Sansa was still pulling her into the living room.

“Margaery, do you still have a Plan B?” Brienne just remembered the encounter in the limousine. She could take a million showers and that still wouldn’t prevent the fact that he had come inside her.

“Holy shit,” Sansa’s eyes widened.

“No, no, no,” Brienne held up her hand and shook them.

“Actually, yes yes yes. Why do you need Plan B?”

“We had sex in the limousine.”

Sansa was laughing again.

Margaery assured Brienne that she had a Plan B for her and when she headed down the hall to get one from her room, her mood turned somber and she gazed at Brienne then narrowed her eyes.

“What?” Brienne asked defensively.

“You’ve got a musician leaving your bedroom looking pretty shook up. I need to know the formula or the secret. You have to give me something, Brienne.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brienne sat down on the couch and tucked one leg under the other. There were three empty glasses on the coffee table waiting for them.

“I mean, what are you doing? He’s coming out looking all mentally disheveled even though _you_ were the one doing all the moaning…”

“Mentally disheveled,” Margaery came back and handed Brienne the little white pill and a small glass of water, “I’m going to give you a heads up. That thing is going to make you feel like you’re experiencing the second day of your period so you might want to stay here and go see Tormund in the afternoon.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to see Tormund in the afternoon anyway.”

She took the pill and drank the entire glass of water in one gulp, placing it on the coffee table. She sat back on the couch and put her hands in her lap, looking down at them.

“Did you two break up?” Sansa asked.

“How can we break up when we’re not dating?”

Margaery snorted, “Oh, you’re dating.”

“But Margaery, you said yourself that this is just a fling. Suddenly, Tormund is getting angry because I told him I wasn’t his girlfriend. I’m really just confused at what’s happening now.” She looked at her hands in her lap and sighed.

“Oh, don’t listen to me!” Margaery said with a laugh. “I only ever said that because I was trying to protect you. I thought you’d fall in love, get swept in the hype…”

“And he wouldn’t love me back?” Brienne asked softly, feeling immediately hurt at the thought.

“Oh, Brienne, of **_course_** not,” Margaery’s expression turned very serious. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing woman who happens to have beauty and brains, which you know, is a totally rare combination. Any man would be lucky to have you.

I just know that after Jaime, you were upset and so _different_. What I meant was that I didn’t want you falling in love and then things may fall apart. I’m just very, very protective of you.”

They were all protective of each other. It was a known fact. Even as Brienne thought about the feelings of thinking that Margaery would ever think Tormund couldn’t love her back made her feel silly. They were best friends, she would never think such a thing like that.

“You two are the smartest women I know. Are you kidding me? Had you not put me in that red top he may not have even noticed me.”

Sansa laughed and opened the bag of chips.

“To be fair, I think he would have shouted red shirt, blue shirt, green shirt-”

“NO SHIRT!” Her two friends chimed in and they both laughed.

“You say beauty and brains are rare but I’m sitting here with two very beautiful, intelligent women,” Brienne looked between them and smiled.

“Well, I mean, are we really that intelligent? We weren’t the ones screaming in pleasure in someone’s guest room.”

Brienne blushed.

“Wash those sheets, by the way,” Sansa pointed to her as Margaery nodded in agreement and unscrewed the top to their wine.

Cheap wine was the best wine!

“So, now you have to ask yourself since Tormund has switched it up and wants to be your man, are you ready for that?”

Brienne’s face set in a frown and she took the glass of wine handed to her by Margaery. She took a modest sip of it.

“He really just kind of sprung it up on me. Then there was that label party where he got into a fight with some man named Jon Umber. I really just thought-.”

“WAIT!” Sansa almost spilled her wine turning on the couch to face Brienne. “Tormund got into a fight with Jon Umber?! So, you’re going to have to rewind this all the way back to what started the fight in the first place.”

She looked up at the clock, deciding that she wasn’t going to get any sleep anytime soon, so she settled in on the couch with her glass of wine and began to tell the story from the beginning.

Brienne even went in detail to discuss the limo ride and her encounter with Khal Drogo.

“How does he smell?” Sansa asked, interrupting Brienne before she could continue. Brienne looked at her friend with a frown.

“How did he smell?” Sansa asked again.

“I mean, he smelled good…” Brienne kind of hesitated and then watched as Sansa nodded her head confidently.

“So do you have the picture?” Margaery looked at her expectantly.

“Well, Tormund took the picture…”

“Okay so then you two definitely have to make up so at the very least you can get that photo.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake. Brienne rolled her eyes.

“After I met Khal, there was this weird exchange between Tormund and Jon Umber. It wasn’t anything too crazy but Tormund told me to my face that he hated the guy and the guy hated him. But he didn’t make a big deal out of it so I didn’t either.

Now, as they’re performing their set you called me,” Brienne pointed to Margaery.

“It was so loud that I wanted to take the phone call outside. The Martell’s mansion is so big, I literally had to wind my way through the crowd of people like I was in a maze. I eventually found my way out and I called you back. I was so busy focusing on calling you back that I didn’t even notice him.”

This was where Brienne paused and shook her head with a sigh.

“I guess maybe I should have been paying more attention. Or maybe I should have asked Tormund to go a little in depth about his animosity towards Jon Umber.”

“No. It’s not your fault, Brienne. Keep going.”

And so, she did.

“I was on the phone with you when he came around and stood right in front of me. I gave him a smile. You know, it was one of those small ones. It was my way of telling him that I was in the middle of something. He didn’t let up and his entourage didn’t seem to care or notice or anything. He asks me how long have I known Tormund and I told him that I didn’t really think that was any of his business.”

Jon Umber was a big man, taller than Tormund and most assuredly packing way more strength than her. She was tall and she had the common curves that came with femininity but she was more lean and athletic in her build than anything. If Tormund could lift her like a rag doll with no problems then Jon Umber would be able to pound her to the ground.

“He asked me if I knew who he was and I told him ‘no’. Well, _that_ really pissed him off. He grabbed me by the rest and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. But he’d been doing drugs. I could tell. His grip was tight on my wrist and he began apologizing while also asking for a kiss. A kiss? This man was trying to force himself on me.

It was just his misfortune that I don’t have patience for men like that and you remember when I used to teach those university self-defense classes. Well I kept them up a little after I graduated. I ended up punching him in the face and before he could hurt me, I gave him a good smack across the face and that was pretty much the end of all that.”

Then she went on to talk about Tormund and the rage in his eyes when he saw her standing there and listened to what happened with Jon Umber, which Sansa gave her proper dramatic gasps and sighs while she shared her story.

If she was being completely honest and she did, Tormund’s behavior was embarrassing. She didn’t like his shouting and fist throwing to prove a point. She wasn’t an idiot. His behavior towards Jon Umber wasn’t because he’d just disrespected her, it was because he’d hated the man and really only need one small reason to go off on him.

Using this excuse of “my woman” wasn’t good enough.

And “my woman?” The very idea of that made her nervous. Not only did it make her nervous but she found herself scoffing out loud at it. How primitive of him.

But he’d wanted something else with her. More than what they were having now.

“It shocked me is all. I didn’t know how to handle it, I guess.”

“But _why_?” Sansa asked with a laugh. “You’re brilliant! We told you this and we’ll continue to tell you this until we all drop dead. Brienne, you’re amazing!”

“I know you’re constantly doubting yourself - nope, I don’t want to hear it!” Margaery held up a finger to quiet Brienne, who was opening her mouth to argue.

“Well, what if he gets tired of me and doesn’t want me anymore? What if they wonder what on earth I’m doing with Tormund, too?”

All three women went quiet.

Sansa and Margaery didn’t have to ask, they know who the ‘they’ in question was.

During Brienne’s time spent as Jaime’s girlfriend and eventual fiancée, she was constantly reminded how lucky she was to be on the arm of a man like that. She knew she was plain, awkward, and perceived as “boyish” (these were the words of a mutual friend, not hers) because of her tall height and nature. Standing next to Jaime often made her look worse for wear in her opinion, but she loved him and despite everyone around them wondering how on earth _she_ got _him_ , she weathered through it.

Jaime was gloriously beautiful. He would do this thing where he’d just smile at her and she felt as if everything in the world would be right. Even if there were times he could be selfish and arrogant or spineless around his family, she still loved him. She loved everything about the man, flaws and all.

Some part of her would always love him. He had been her first love…

Then he surprised her after their five-year engagement about needing to find himself and still, she was needlessly given the advice to “go after him” and make things right.

Make things right.

How could she make things right when she didn’t know what she had done wrong in the first place?

If Jaime was a catch, despite his flaws and shortcomings… then what would someone say if they saw her with Tormund? The man was a musician, a well-known musician at that. What would happen if she dedicated another ten years of her life to someone who decided in the end they were done? She couldn’t do that again. She couldn’t go through the emotional strain it caused.

“Brienne, I can see it on your face,” Sansa narrowed her eyes and leaned in close to her, “you’re doing that thing where you let your thoughts push you to the edge.”

“Am I being ridiculous?”

“No, but then, also yes.”

She could always count on Margaery’s honesty.

“First of all, Tormund beat the shit of Small Jon Umber for getting fresh with you. He didn’t even know what the man had done but he knew that whatever it was, it upset you. Personally, I would call that a husband’s move, not a boyfriend but what do I know?”

Brienne laughed, “It’s only been a month.”

“Well when you know, you know. Am I right, Sansa?”

“Or sometimes you don’t,” Sansa shrugged and rolled her eyes. Margaery was teasing her about her co-worker Podrick Payne. They’d been discussing this man’s growing crush on Sansa for two years now and it seemed from their most recent conversations that Sansa was starting to feel the same way, too.

“Also,” Margaery batted her eyelashes, “he would have taken a couple of thumps from Khal Drogo for you, too. That man is a stallion!” She whooped and pumped a fist.

“Oh, god I can’t wait to see the photos,” Sansa gushed.

“Wait, I do have some others.”

Brienne got up from the couch to grab her cellphone from the room. She returned to show them all the photos she’d snapped when she thought people weren’t looking. All three of them fawned over the Martell family, specifically Elia and how beautiful she was.

“Pretty sure they had sex out by the fountain,” Brienne mused as Sansa and Margaery nodded.

While they looked at photos on her phone, she thought about Tormund. There was no way this was over, that was obvious. She needed to talk with him and explain things to him. Sure, the purpose of their relationship was taking another course but she didn’t know if she was just quite ready to be his girlfriend. She wanted something, too, but right now she really didn’t know what.

And it would be best to be honest.

After they looked through the pictures, Margaery leaned back on the couch with her glass of wine and took a sip, eyeing Brienne closely.

“Now let’s talk about what happened in our guest room. You had sex in the limousine and then he came in here to have sex with you again?” Sansa inquired, looking at the selfie of Brienne and Tormund with a little smile on her face.

“Actually, no…” Brienne looked off, her neck heating up.

“Okay, so what did he do then?”

Brienne was unsurprisingly too embarrassed to say outright but when they finally got it out of her, both women were screaming and dying of laughter. Confidence in her friends’ appreciation for a nice, freaky encounter in bed made her join in with them.

“The complete gall of that man. Well yeah, now you gott’a date him. I mean, he’s clearly going to be doing that again.”

“Oh god, Margaery! You are _too_ much.”

“No, you know who’s too much? Your boyfriend. If he has a brother, send him my way.”

“Oh no! He only has sisters.”

Margaery dipped her head down and smirked, “Okay and…”

“Right. Well, I’ll see about that,” Brienne nodded her head and tapped her nose.

After a while, everyone was beginning to yawn and Brienne really had been drained from the night’s events - great and not-so-great. They had finished the chips, wine, and a pint of ice cream shared between the three of them.

Brienne headed into the bedroom after saying good-night, though the sun would be coming up in an hour. She crawled into bed, thinking about Tormund - the truth in his eyes when he told her flat out that he’d leave and respect her wishes, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

And damn if she didn’t find herself missing him now. Of course, she missed him now. That’s how things worked, didn’t they?

Licking her lips, grabbed her phone. It was late, he may be asleep.

She lay there another five minutes trying to figure out what to say. How would she get this conversation going again? Maybe he was asleep and she would send a text and he could wake up to find it. Then she’d call him later and they would meet up, have sex, and continue like the fight never happened.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she started typing her message.

_Thank you for protecting me_

 

Then she shortened it.

_Thank you for_

 

Then it became -

_Thank you_

 

She sent it, putting the phone under her pillow and vowing not to look at it until after she slept.

But it buzzed and she couldn’t help herself.

_Say it to my face._

 

Brienne licked her lips, looking at the message in the darkness of her room.

Two hours later, at seven-thirty in the morning, Brienne was knocking on Tormund’s door. She was sleep deprived and more emotionally drained than she intended but when he opened the door and stepped aside to let her in, nothing had ever felt more right than this.


	12. One Day At A Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Tormund have a serious talk!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this story has taken quite the turn but you know, in a good way. :-) It makes for longer chapters and more fun things to write between our two favorite people.
> 
> Speaking of which, I've had some great betas helping me with this story, my friend Sam and now [faradaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faradaze/pseuds/Faradaze). Fun times ahead. As always, thank you for the reviews and kudos. It is always greatly appreciated!

 

 

* * *

 

He pulled the door open and the pair of them exchanged long glances. For a moment, they stood in silence watching each other. Neither of them had slept any. Now that she was standing across from him, the sun was shining brightly behind her. Her eyes, despite the small smile playing at her lips, were tired. And sad. Swirls of blue gazed back at him, causing feelings of uncertainty that he was not ready for.

Brienne was coming over to call things off with him. Tormund could feel it in his gut and the very thought made him sick to his stomach. He’d really messed up at that Martell party. Now he was going to pay for it, but he wouldn’t let her leave without a fight.

That was the very least he could do.

“So, you came to say thank you to my face then?” His tone betrayed his inner thoughts. He actually didn’t feel so relieved that she was here now.

At first, he confidently sent that text message and he expected that she would come over and they’d make love or fuck, whatever their reunion led to, and then things would be just fine.

Brienne opened her mouth and paused when Tormund held a hand up and looked down before lifting his eyes back to her. If he didn’t go head and say what he needed, there was a great chance he would regret it.

“Before we do whatever it is we’re about to do, I need you to know that I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much of an asshole I was until _after_ which is… in most cases, how it always happens. So please come inside so I can fix this fucking mess.”

His tone was pleading. There was no need to hide that from her. He wanted Brienne. And he needed her. There was nothing to be ashamed of when it came to that. He watched her for a moment, saw her dance around with the idea of coming inside on her features. Only once did her brows furrow and it happened so fast that if he blinked he would have missed it. She bit down on her bottom lip and drug her teeth slowly over, splotches of red being left in its wake, then slowly faded away to their natural pink tint. When he could see Brienne’s expression relax, he held out a hand and she took it, letting him pull her inside.

The moment their lips came in contact, Tormund closed the door and pressed his body against Brienne’s until her back gently collided with the door, making a soft thud the moment it hit. For a moment, they stayed that way – kissing against his door. His arm moved around her waist like a hook and he jerked her body closer to him. It amazed him the way she molded into him, only just slightly taller than him. A few inches at most. It was the sexiest thing in the world.

Brienne didn’t protest his kisses. In fact, she did the opposite. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side and her hands gently rested on his shoulders. Her lips were soft and warm and tongue was sweet from whatever she’d been drinking before she came to him. They pulled away for a moment, panting softly.

Then suddenly, her hands slipped from his shoulders and to his chest. She curled his shirt tightly around her hands and their kiss deepened again. Tormund grabbed her hips and lifted her with ease until she was elevated high enough to wrap her legs around his waist.

Brienne’s arms encased his neck and he felt the heat stirring in the lower parts of his abdomen. Eventually, this would lead to something else but he had no complaints about that. She released the grip on the handfuls of his shirt and snaked their way up the sides of his face. A gasp escaped her lips as they both pulled back for air and then he leaned in to kiss her again.

“We …need to…Tormund,” she whispered, her warm breath bouncing on his lips.

Whatever it was that they “needed to” he was sure she was absolutely right. In fact, he couldn’t agree with her more.

He slipped his head lower to press his lips against her neck and her hands cradled the back of his head. Hungrily, he devoured the skin at the base of her neck, dragging his teeth along the area just before her shoulder.

“Oh _god_ ,” she whimpered. “ _Please_ …” he took her pleas as wanting more and so his hips fit in between hers, erection not quite there but growing all the same.

“We need to talk. We _can’t_ ,” she said it again, her voice raspy.

The firmness in her voice slowly began to return and Tormund realized that even if she wanted this and he wanted this, the conversation must come first. So he brought himself to a halt, but for that brief moment they locked eyes, he could see the fire behind hers.

After. They could definitely finish this after.

Tormund found himself nodding his head as a reply and he slowly took a step back so she could lower ler legs and stand to her full height.

“Okay, we can talk,” he responded. He gave a nod but he wasn’t excited about where this conversation was going.

In his silence, he guided Brienne over to the couch and they sat next to each other. She tightened the large cardigan around herself and put her hands down between her legs and bowed her head.

He let her gather her thoughts and decided that patience was the best thing he could offer her now. It was important that Brienne got to say everything she needed to say. She tightened her large cardigan around herself as she sat down and locked her hands together to put them down between her legs that she was nervous and not entirely excited about what she was about to say.

Her nervousness seemed to float around the both of them in a stifling manner.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said softly.

His heart broke at the words but he stayed quiet.

“I was only trying to get over my break-up.”

Her nervous laughter followed this, “I’m sorry. This makes me sound like such a horrible person, doesn’t it?” There was a pause then she continued. “Right?”

When she turned to look at him, perhaps for assurance, Tormund could only shake his head. He realized her eyes were shining with the threat of tears but none came.

No one had planned for anything serious to happen. He never really thought he could… well, he never thought they would be sitting here talking about this.

At least she was being honest with him. He masked the heartbreak at hearing that but stayed quiet still.

“You see, I was in this really serious relationship. We were supposed to be married. Ten years, Tormund.” She whispered it in a shaky breath and he could hear her emotion behind the words. Immediately, he wanted to beat the shit out of whoever this person was.

“I gave this man almost half my life.” She laughed and angrily wiped a tear away. “Things only fell apart six months ago. What was I even thinking?” She looked up and started to laugh again. “I thought I could do this but I can’t.”

She shook her head and then quite suddenly, Brienne began to cry.

At first, in his shock, he watched her in stunned silence. She bowed her head and her shoulders shook then she buried her hands in her face. Tormund’s mouth parted and he continued to watch her for just a moment longer until he eventually moved closer to her on the couch and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her body very close to him.

He wasn’t entirely sure why she was crying. Was it because she wasn’t over her ex-fiance? Was she crying because she was sad about her break-up? Was she crying because she was ending things with him? Or was she crying because she was tired? Either way, he comforted her the best way he could, patting her arm gingerly and kissing the top of her blonde head.

“It’s alright, Brienne.” He said it softly, it almost startled him how gentle he sounded.

“I don’t really _know_ why I’m crying,” she said through tears, burying her head farther into his chest.

Tormund could feel his shirt dampen and when he realized that her crying wasn’t going to cease, he got up from the couch and pulled her with him. She followed behind him with no opposition while her nose was red and her eyes were even redder, circles around them from the lack of sleep and now of course the crying.

He would have joked that she looked like a little white mouse but this wasn’t the time for it and so, he quietly guided her into his bed where he sat her down and sat next to her. One by one, he pulled off her shoes and then her cardigan, taking his time.

“We’re just going to lie here until you feel better. Is that okay?” Tormund asked quietly.

Brienne looked at him and slowly nodded her head.

“Good,” he said in a soothing voice. He lay down in the bed and held out an arm for her. She looked at him for a moment and then slowly crawled into the bed next to him and let him wrap an arm around her.

“We can finish the conversation later on today but I think right now you need to get some…” he realized that Brienne’s breathing had evened out. In less than a minute, her eyes were closed and she had drifted off to sleep.

He held his head at an odd angle, a vein sticking up in his neck as he strained to watch her. Her cheeks were rosy and tear-stained. Tormund’s head fell back and he stared up at the ceiling. In the morning, they could talk more but she was tired and he was tired and they just needed to get rest. It had been a long night for the both of them. He smoothed a hand over her head and began to hum a little until he eventually fell asleep too.

 

* * *

 

The smell of cooking bacon woke her up. She blinked and turned slightly, absently patting the place Tormund had been sleeping. Naturally, during the course of sleep they both shifted and moved around the bed until Brienne had turned on her right side while Tormund was slightly sprawled on his back.

She sat up in bed and rubbed her temples, a slight headache lingered and her stomach cramped like nobody’s business. With a sigh, Brienne slowly brought her legs around to the side of the bed and stretched long arms high over her head.

Her nose was her guide as she headed down his long hallway and made a right once she came into the living room. She walked through the doorway that separated the small space between his living room and kitchen then paused when she saw him standing at the stove, fixing breakfast. Despite the fact that it was already the afternoon, they were still eating breakfast. The thought put a smile on her face.

He didn’t seem to notice her presence so she stood there in silence.

Brienne realized that the truth in all this was that she never thought to approach this thing with Tormund for anything more than it originally was. There was something phenomenal about him that pulled her from the shell she so often hid in. It was something she only allowed Margaery and Sansa the privilege of seeing.

Would she allow something more to happen between them? Absolutely, yes. But as she broke down last night, angry with herself and still pretty damn mad at Jaime, too, she knew that there were parts of her still hurting and suffering from the aftermath of that relationship. The wounds she gained from his decision hadn’t entirely healed and Tormund deserved so much more than some broken fool still trying to mend herself from some bad experience.

But she did want him. She needed him, too.

She liked to think she really did.

The thing Brienne needed most though was just a little more time.

Most of her time spent thinking about Jaime was always met with her trying to distract herself or even trying to forget.

It was always forget, forget forget… and though Sansa and Margaery had both advised her that the only way to completely get over Jaime was to face it head on, she lied to them and mostly to herself that she was fine.

But as she fell harder for Tormund with each moment, the reality of it all was that she wasn’t as fine as she assumed. And now he was standing here, fixing a breakfast for them after she cried to him about some other man, still wanting her. It was unreal.

“Good afternoon, beautiful,” his gruff voice broke through her thoughts and she bit down on her bottom lip.

Brienne walked over to him and instantly wrapped her arms around him from behind and buried her face in his bushy mane. He gave a low chuckle and she could feel the vibration of it around the swell of his large stomach. Turning her head to the side, she rested her head on slightly above his… it was just a little and she sighed.

“Good afternoon,” she replied.

“How are you feeling?”

“Gross,” she replied and this got yet another chuckle from him.

“Probably need to get some food in you. After you eat, you’ll feel better.”

Would she?

“I’ve only dated one other man,” she suddenly began. Tormund continued fixing breakfast while she stayed snuggled against him.

She decided to continue, “I met Jaime when I was eighteen years old, a freshman. He was a teaching assistant for one of my professors. English. History.” Brienne laughed, “It’s silly because sometimes I mix up the classes.” She pulled away from Tormund and walked over to sit down at the table and folded her hands neatly as she placed them on the table.

“He was a bit older and everyone in my class thought he was good looking. I mean, really, he is a handsome man. What he had in looks, he was severely lacking in personality or maybe he just had the appearance of someone that was standoffish. Most people marked him as rude but I knew there was something more to him. I always felt like he’d just been misunderstood. Despite all that, somehow something happened between us.”

Brienne remembered the slow burn and torture quite distinctly.

Tormund continued fixing breakfast but he would occasionally pause and turn his head to the side, letting her know that he was still listening. She was thankful that he didn’t interrupt her.

“Nobody thinks I’m pretty. I mean, nobody thought it. I was tall, tomboyish, awkward, and I was always trying to hide. I didn’t like attention and I suppose a part of me doesn’t quite crave it now either. But Jaime and I had struck up a friendship. Despite how different we looked, him a pretty boy and me, well…” she paused and laughed again. The laugh sounded sad and tired.

She could see Tormund’s arm stop moving after her laughter but she hurriedly continued on so she could finish her story.

“Anyway, I fell in love with Jaime I think the moment I met him. I suppose that’s everyone when they get sight of him but there was something about the way he spoke and the way he carried himself that really drew me in. I kept thinking how on earth had I got so lucky? I _was_ pretty lucky.”

“For two years, I quietly pined after him. You know when I really think about it now, I probably could have dated him sooner but he was always talking about his miserable family that I was too afraid to give it a try.

Then something really amazing happened. It was my twentieth birthday and I remember that Jaime had come to give me some gift. I can’t remember what it was.”

She wasn’t being honest now and she knew this.

“Actually, I could remember. It was a necklace. Silver.”

Brienne only liked silver and she remembered very vividly how shocked she was that Jaime remembered that fact about her. Right in the middle of the silver holder was a sapphire stone. Now that necklace was hidden away in a box of things that all reminded her of him. Boxes and boxes of things.

“On my twentieth birthday he told me that he could very much fall in love with me.”

Even now, it sounded stupid. Two years and a maybe but she was still young and impressionable and she had wanted Jaime so bad. So when he _did_ tell her those things, she accepted it in her starry eyed naivete and that night was the first night she had physically been with someone.

Brienne didn’t know why she told Tormund all this but she supposed it was really important that he hear it and for her to get it all out, too.

“We didn’t date each other exclusively until years later and then it wasn’t until years later we became engaged.” She paused and made a face, “I don’t really know _why_ I’m telling you these things but I think you should know it.”

He turned around to face her with the spatula in his hand and nodded.

“We were together for so long and then he decided he was done.” Brienne shook her head, “And when I asked what happened or what I had done wrong, he had nothing to offer me. No answer. _Nothing_ ,” she said it in a whisper and tears stung her eyes.

Brienne sniffed loudly and blinked away any oncoming tears and bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t let herself cry about this again.

The sizzle and pop of the bacon had ceased and now he was walking over to sit across from her at the table. He placed the spatula on the table and she could see him clenching his jaw.

“Pardon me for saying it but I’d like to find Jaime and kick his ass right now but we’re not going to let him stop you from getting your happiness.”

Tormund sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He seemed to try and find what he wanted to say. Brienne decided that maybe she was done for now. The words flowed like water and getting it out in the open felt relieving, good. She was glad that he was here to listen to this. After a while, he took a deep breath and began.

“I’m sure you know I was married, right? I mean, she was a good woman. She saw something in me nobody else had and I hadn’t really had anything serious up until her. I figured _this is the one_ , so I married her. But I wasn’t married, you know? I had absolutely no fucking idea what I was doing.”

He scratched the side of his head.

“I cheated on her. I did drugs. I was really distant and in my twenties, I was too fucking stupid to understand the concept of what being emotionally distant meant. She would tell me sometimes that hurt more than the cheating. When she left, I looked at it like freedom. So here I am, some fucking musician sleeping around and moving from woman to woman. It wasn’t even very fulfilling. Sometimes, I felt like I was stepping outside myself making all these terrible decisions. But then, I went to rehab and got my life together and now,” he paused and looked at Brienne with a smile.

“Listen, I’m not gonna do you like Jaime. I want you to know that. I’m gonna’ be here for you and take care of you. I’ve been out there and I’ve done all that stupid shit and I want to do it the right way. With you.”

Tormund got up from the table and knelt down in front of Brienne, gazing up at her. When he rested his hands on her knees, Brienne covered his and sighed.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another serious relationship yet, Tormund.”

He tried to mask his disappointment with a little laugh but Brienne squeezed his hand and leaned down to seek out his eyes.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to be with you. It’s actually quite the opposite.” She cupped his face in her hand and lifted it so their eyes could meet. “I enjoy every moment with you, even the fights.” And then they both laughed a little at that.

She pressed her forehead to his and let out a long sigh. She’d been so nervous before telling him that wasn’t sure if she was ready for a relationship. Considering the way he behaved at that party, she couldn’t help her nerves. And even if this didn’t go any further than this conversation in his kitchen, she decided that she wasn’t going to regret one moment of their time spent together.

“You know what?” His hands were still resting on her legs but he was now gently squeezing them. “Why don’t we just take this one day at a time?”

Brienne opened her mouth to argue about the fact that she lived hours away but decided against it.

“I’m in no rush and you need time. I got all the fuckin’ time in the world.”

“You’ll get tired of me,” she said softly and pulled away from him, suddenly feeling sad.

He would get tired of her. Maybe he wouldn’t leave like Jaime but maybe her indecisiveness would run him away. There were women lining up to be in her place and she knew this. And she also knew there wasn’t much that was special about her.

“What did I say, woman? One day at a time.”

He stood with a grunt and held out a hand for her, “And right now, I’m hungry. And I know you’re hungry too. So let’s eat this food before it gets cold. I hope you like your bacon crispy, by the way.”

And Tormund continued talking about his cooking skills, explaining that he wasn’t the best chef in the world while Brienne watched him with a smile.


	13. Lover Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-discussion. Tormund finds out life-changing news from Jon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone so long I'm sure most of y'all have forgotten about me. Those of you that haven't, thanks for sticking it out with me. My life has been busy and a little earth shaking. I've been working on my original works so I can start publishing so I had to make an executive decision and put the fanfic on hold. But I made a promise that I would complete anything I started, so I'm back updating again. I'm like a Lannister - minus the incest and crime and junk. So this is an update and hopefully we'll be back to doing this weekly. Once again, thanks for your patience and support - I have truly appreciated it.

He was in love. Absolutely, stupidly and satisfyingly in love. 

Tormund couldn’t think of the last time he’d been so honest with someone that wasn’t Jon. His confession about his life before his divorce hadn’t been something he liked to discuss. In fact, he spent most of his adult life pretending that it hadn’t existed.

Even after his confession and Brienne’s honesty about not being ready to seriously date him yet, he knew everything would have to be taken in stride. Was he disappointed that she was reluctant to try it with him? Of course, but Tormund found himself respecting Brienne’s honesty a lot more than some lie that would only temporarily appease them both.

With the remaining time that they had, he wanted to make the time she spent with him as enjoyable as possible. There was no reason to end all of this on a bad note because they wanted different things. 

But he  _ was _ in love with her. He could no longer deny that.

Now, as he sat waiting in his convertible, waiting for Jon at the front entrance of SFO (airport) for Jon in a line of cars also waiting for their passengers, he couldn’t stop smiling. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel and he was nodding in rhythm to the tune on the radio. At exactly four pm, Jon Snow walked through the sliding doors wearing his baggiest sweats, sunglasses, and hair in a messy bun. A trail of teenage girls were behind him but respectively keeping their distance. Ogling from afar, Tormund noted and laughed at his own joke.

That was a perk of living here and not being in Los Angeles. They were freely given the opportunity to walk around mostly in peace as they did their regular, mundane day-to-day activities.

Tormund must have looked ever the love-struck fool because Jon was smirking the moment he caught sight of him.

“Hello, Lover Boy,” he teased, tossing his luggage in the back of the car.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” Tormund grunted, looking across the seat at Jon. 

As he sped off from the airport, Jon propped his arm on the window and turned to look at his best friend. Jon would dart his eyes back to the road and then back to Tormund. This happened for two stops at the red light until Tormund finally turned to look at his friend and widened his eyes.

“What the fuck are you on about over there?”

“Ygritte and I got married.”

He looked at Jon, really looked at him for a moment and was grateful that he’d been at the stop sign. There’s no telling how bad that crash would have been had he been driving. He’d been going back and forth between California and New York for years now to visit Ygritte. Her schedule had been just as busy as his now that she was apart of an ensemble for some Netflix show he constantly lied about watching whenever Jon would excitedly tell him about it.

“Is she pregnant?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this isn’t 1963, you jerk.”

“Well I had to ask!” He shrugged while Jon shook his head laughing.

Jon sighed and ran his hand through his hair. 

“Well, if you must know, she definitely isn’t pregnant and it wasn’t some last minute ditch to keep the flame lit in our relationship. You know, I just kind of got tired of this waiting and wanting game that we were clearly both playing. And I guess she was, too. Just as I was leaving, we asked each other at the exact same moment if we should just go ahead and get married. And we snuck off to get a marriage license,” he finished with a shrug.

After some silence, Tormund’s face cracked into a wide grin, “Congratulations! We’re going to have to have a proper celebration! With drinks and music and all that beautiful shit!” He paused, chuckling, “Melisandre’s going to kill you though.”

“I’ll deal with her whenever. I’m not worried. I’m happy and I’m in love.”

And that was really all that mattered.

"Speaking of being in love," Jon turned to Tormund and blinked unnaturally long eyelashes, "how is everything going with "Legs?"

“Shut the fuck up,” he playfully replied. 

Their next stop? The studio. It was unfortunate that Jon didn’t even get the opportunity to head to his place and shower but it was all a part of the gig.

 

* * *

 

 

Tormund chewed on his thumbnail while he watched Jon’s eyes skim over the words on the notebook paper. They were entering the second week of rehearsals and now everyone was gathered in the studio that Martell Records purchased just for them.

Arya looked tan and Gendry needed a haircut. He couldn’t have been happier to see his family again. While Tormund and Jon actually rehearsed, Hot Pie and Gendry ushered in food they prepared the entire evening before today’s first studio session. Arya was already in the studio playing bass.

“These are really good, Tormund. You realize about eighty percent of these are love songs, right?”

“Look at you being all observant and cute,” Tormund said with a little grin.

Jon rolled his eyes, “I’m just asking because it’s a bit different from what we normally do.”

“Jon, we have a song about a fucking bear destroying a neighborhood. Somehow, people _still_ think that one is about my ex-wife. I think it’s safe to say they might enjoy a song about a woman in a positive light. Besides, the songs just need to be good.” He sat down across from him, “I was thinking about going acoustic for my first solo album.”

“Oh?” Jon perked his eyebrows. “So you’re pulling a Khal Drogo? Is Brienne going to be your Daenarys now?” 

“Jon, no woman is alike,” Tormund held up a finger to correct him, “And besides, what’s wrong with that? Dany and Khal are happy, married, and filling up a house with babies. You know how I love babies.”

Jon laughed and flipped through the notebook. "I can imagine your house full of babies now."

"Great big monsters that will conquer the world," Tormund joked. 

That received some genuinely loud laughter from Jon before he paused and his attention went to whatever was on the page. Tormund decided to head out front and help the guys move the food inside.

He smiled when his phone vibrated in his pocket. 

“Hello beautiful,” he couldn’t stop the good feelings she always made him feel, even when he just heard her voice.

Hot Pie walked over with a large tray covered in foil paper and shoved hard against his stomach.

“Are you rehearsing or are you moving boxes?” Brienne giggled at her own joke from the other end.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Tormund took the case of food into the building with one arm. “We’re moving food. It’s going to be a long day.”

“When you say long…”

“I mean all day. I’ll probably get out of here later on tonight. Do you want to meet up then?”

Brienne made a sound and then clicked her tongue. She was in thought and fuck, if it wasn’t cute.

“No, I can’t because I’m going to see Margaery’s brother-in-law in some play. If we’re being honest, I think it’s mostly porn.”

“Oh yeah, what is it about?”

“Well, these two young men explore themselves and their sexuality while being on a stranded island. I’m pretty sure it’s not a family friendly one. Margaery said there’s nudity, like a lot of nudity. I’m excited to see all the penises.”

“The human body is beautiful, should be fun. Take pics for me,” he teased.

“No, I don’t think Renly is your type. He’s too pretty.”

“Excuse you, I like pretty.”

She made an ‘mmm’ sound in reply.

“I like you.” He said it in a singsong voice and she replied with a scoff. One day he would get her to stop doing that.

“So I guess we won’t see each other. What day does this make?” He asked seriously curious.

“Day two,” Brienne said with a sigh.

“Two days?!” Tormund was amazed by this. Most of the time he spent was with his bandmates and after they finished doing some recording they would do their retreat in god only knew where and he really wouldn’t see much of Brienne after that.

And then…

He chose not to think about that.

“I miss you, darlin’,” he ignored the face Gendry (of all people!) made at him as he walked by. 

She snorted, “That’s because you’re horny.”

“Well, if we’re being fair - I am.”

Her laughter was loud enough that Hot Pie perked his eyebrows as he walked by. 

“Thought so. And it seems like we may not see each other but maybe I can get these assholes to leave early.”

“Oh, don’t call them that!” She said with a laugh.

“They’re assholes even though they are great cooks. And they can be the best friends anyone can have, but enough about them, let’s talk about us and about how,” he lowered his voice so only she could hear, “ _I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when I see you again_.”

“Very romantic,” she replied dryly.

“Who needs romance when you’ve got a big cock?”

“Tormund, Jesus!” Brienne was laughing again.

“I better stop because I’m seeing those tits and that ass and those long legs ...I’m going to get hard and have to cheat on you with my hand, again. And it’s not the same, you know, because those callouses and rough tips… just doesn’t match those soft hands of yours.”

“That’s because you won’t take my advice when it comes to moisturizing. I told you, you can get these soft hands if you follow my nighttime routine.”

So it seemed she had several jokes this afternoon.

“You’re being very naughty with these jokes.”

“Naughty?” Now she was trying to sound innocent.

“Yes, naughty, and if you don’t stop I’ll just show up on Juniper Street and knock on your poor friend’s door.”

“Best friend,” she reminded him, “and your challenge is accepted. That is, of course, if I don’t beat you first.”

Melisandre’s candy apple red Porsche pulled up to the sidewalk. Tormund knew that the sight of him on his phone while they were bringing food up to fellowship like this was Thanksgiving and not work did not paint any of them in a positive light.

“I gotta go,” Tormund said immediately and as Brienne was saying okay, go he was hanging up. 

He watched in stunned silence as Melisandre strutted past him, turning her head to watch him as she walked on. She flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder and then paused to look back at him. He instantly got the feeling that she requested he take out dinner to thaw and he’d somehow forgotten it. Yes, that was the kind of nervous she made him. She had been politely, in the only way she knew how to be polite, to get some songs out. There had been working, for sure, but they were mostly dicking around. She only showed up when she felt the Martells were wasting money, which wasn’t a common thing. Melisandre’s appearance was always a good enough motivator to push them in the right direction.

She put fear in them and fire under them the way only someone like her could. She was the only person Arya didn’t curse at.

“It looks like you lot are about to have Thanksgiving. What’s with all the food? Why are we not rehearsing?”

“We are rehearsing,” Tormund held out an arm but immediately pulled it back when Gendry and Hot Pie got into a playful tussle with each other in the grass. “I know it doesn’t look like that right now but you’ve got a habit of showing up when we’re not doing anything.”

“Tormund, how many songs have you recorded?” Melisandre was looking at her phone, thumb working fast on the Blackberry.

“Well… we…” he looked around and when Gendry let out a loud grunt being practically flipped over Hot Pie’s shoulder, Tormund looked sternly over Melisandre’s shoulder at them. 

Will you two fucking cool it he mouthed to them and they quickly calmed down.

“Right. I’m spending today’s recording session with you big giant babies. And if Gendry’s arm breaks again, he’s paying for it himself.” 

She looked over Tormund’s shoulder and he turned around to see them standing there like two idiots. Tormund turned back to her and smiled. Now he knew he’d never see Brienne today or even tomorrow. Melisandre never slept and never ate because she was an android, obviously, so they would be working all day.

“Got it, boss,” he smiled at her and turned up the walkway, passing by Gendry and Hot Pie.

“You two idiots are a fuckin’ embarrassment, you know that?” He shook his head as he headed inside the recording studio. “At least pretend like we’ve been rehearsing.”

Melisandre’s presence was enough to get them motivated and pump out a few good jam sessions. Tormund’s guitar solos were spirited enough to make her stop hovering around, frowning at the food they brought to eat during breaks. By ten pm, she had finally left their presence.

“Do you think she does anything else besides bully us?” Jon plopped down hard on the couch in their recording studio and smoothed his hands over his hair.

“What? You don’t think we need it because we definitely need it.” 

Arya sat next to him and moved over a bit to make room for Gendry.

“Oh no, we need it.” Tormund pulled his phone from his pocket and was pleased to see that Brienne had left him a few messages.

Arya began to hum Billie Holiday’s Lover Man and the rest of the group joined in with her. Tormund was too busy reading over the text messages to pay attention to them. 

They weren’t necessarily text message and moreso photos. He narrowed his eyes and saw the photo of her long leg, bare and pale in the sunlight from her room. He nodded his head appreciatively and patiently watched the slideshow that followed.

Her leg.

Bare stomach.

The underside of her breast.

Her shoulder.

He chuckled to himself. Bless her for being artistic with the nudes she was sending. A little tits and ass was all a simple man like him needed. But was he going to turn down tasteful nudes, too? Absolutely not.

“Whatcha’ got there, Lover Man?” Jon seemed to be pretty excited to join in with teasing, considering he was the first member of their band to probably get married.

“A lot of nerve you assholes got!” He looked up from the phone and pursed his lips. “Didn’t you just elope with someone while you were on vacation?” 

“Yeah, you got some nerve!” Hot Pie was the first to turn and immediately, Tormund might add.

“Fucking traitor!” Arya shouted and she pounced on him while everyone cheered her on.

Tormund took this opportunity to sneak off into the bathroom while they acted like children on the couch. Jon cried for help as he closed the door behind him and locked it. He flipped on the lights and went through the slideshow again. She was adorable and sexy and perfect. He couldn’t help but grin at her photos.

And just as she was exposing more, she cut him off. Why there? What a cruel woman she could be? Then he realized, quite plainly, that she was teasing him on purpose.

He dialed her number and patiently waited for her to answer.

“Hello?” Oh, now she wanted to sound innocent. Cute. Very cute.

“Woman, where are the rest of the nudes?”

“Oh, it’s just like a man to be ungrateful. I’m giving you my best content!” She sounded angry but she could be playing around. Either way, he was not going to mess this up.

“Did I sound ungrateful? Oh Brienne, light of life and literally the most beautiful woman ever, I did not mean it like that.” 

She really did have all the control right now. And he was not about to ruin his opportunity to get more.

“Okay, let me try this again,” he began, “I loved them, never seen anything better but you know… let’s get a little more naughty. It’s just you and me.”

She was silent for a while and then he heard something moving around in the background.

“Naughty?”

“Yes. I’m still gonna jack off to these, too, though. Don’t be mistaken.”

“How is that you’ve seen me naked in person but still want full fledged nudes? I don’t understand.”

“Because I’m a man and none of the shit we do makes sense!”

He laughed when she made a sound of disgust. There was a loud bang on the door followed by Jon pleading for him to get these motherfuckers off him.

“Baby, I gotta go because I’m working with some idiots but thank you so much for those fucking nudes. Daddy like.”

She laughed really loud and said goodbye before hanging up. He turned and yanked the door open, looking at the pile of band members on Jon and pounded his chest like Tarzan before running into the wall of bodies. Sure, rehearsal was going just fine.

An hour later after they pushed out one good song without arguing about it, Jon was cleaning up the rest of their food. Everyone divvied it up and he was taking his portion now. Tormund, as usual, would be the last one to go.

“How much longer are you going to be here?” He was sliding on his glasses and grabbing his tote. He always looked so fucking pretentious. It was a good thing he had a pure spirit.

“Not too long, I just want to enjoy the peacefulness of this studio and maybe record some voiceovers. I need to give the illusion of us actually still working so Melisandre doesn’t shit a couple of bricks.”

“She’s going to do that anyway,” Jon laughed. 

He pulled his hair into a ponytail and Tormund snorted.

“It’s disgusting how pretty you are.”

Jon didn’t even acknowledge Tormund’s comment, he just gathered up his food, and left. 

If Brienne thought he forgot the part two to those nudes she was supposed to be sending, she was sadly mistaken. Tormund didn’t pressure her though and he was grateful for the lovely photos she had sent earlier in the day. 

Thirty minutes into some solo time, his phone buzzed and he stopped playing acoustic and pulled the phone from the table.

Ah, so she was going to send him more after all.

He slid the phone open and blinked at the photos. The curve of her ass was the first photo and he slowly put his guitar down. He didn’t want the slideshow to move the pictures too fast so he manually looked at each picture, one by one. The very last photo was her standing with her back to him slightly bent over, giving him a nice view of ...his eyes widened and he zoomed in. 

A throbbing erection in his jeans needed to be free. His hand absently tugged at the crotch of his jeans and he went through the photos again.

Damn.

He knew that this took a lot for her to do and he wanted to make sure her efforts did not get ignored. 

**_Call me the luckiest fucking man in the world. You are amazing. And HOT._ **

He laughed to himself and sent the message. Then he sent another: ** _Your ass is perfect. And your tits. You’re going to be the death of me._**

Standing, he unzipped his own pants and positioned the phone and front facing camera in front of his dick that stood at attention.

“Are you seriously just going to send that picture without even letting me ask for it?”

He looked up and saw Brienne standing there with a smirk.


	14. That Strange Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the archives! I kind of debated with sharing this chapter but I thought you guys would appreciate it since it's basically a wrap-up to the previous one. Brienne takes control and flips it on Tormund! Thank you guys for sticking this out with me. I'm going to be really sad when I get to the end of this but it's all been delightful and worth every moment!

She looked at the dumbfounded, startled expression on his face and shook her head.

“The door was unlocked and literally anyone could walk in here.”

“ _ Literally anyone could walk in here _ ,” he imitated her, his voice raising octaves higher than Brienne had ever spoken in.

“Tormund, I don’t even talk like that.” She laughed and sat her bag down on the couch. “Ooh, is this the studio?” 

She looked over his shoulder at the recording booth and pushed past him to look at all the equipment behind him. It was fascinating, looking at all the equipment and items used to help make the music in the studio. She could see the drum set that Gendry played sitting next to Hot Pie’s guitar. Arya, Jon, and Tormund’s guitars were clumped together in a huddle, leaning against the wall. The colorful switchboard got her attention and she walked over trailed the tips of her fingers against it but she was careful not to move anything.

“This is so amazing,” she looked at the microphones and the headphones in the recording booth. It was fascinating and left her in awe that she was actually dating a legitimate  _ musician _ . And here she was, thinking that musicians weren’t her type.

“Would you like to record something?” He was suddenly standing very close behind her, reaching around to cover her hand as it rested on the soundboard.

She turned her head to the side to glance at him from the corner of her eye.

“What on earth would I record?”

“Well, we have all kinds of songs in here,” his voice was husky and she could feel his erection pressing against her. She felt powerful knowing that she had that effect on him. “You could just sing anything or do some spoken word like a poet, you know, anything really.”

“Hmm,” she screwed up her face in thought then shook her head, “no I don’t think I’d have anything interesting to say.”

“You could moan like you do when I’m fucking you,” His hand trailed up hers until it wrapped around her waist and the room suddenly felt hot with him breathing on her neck.

“I love that you just get right to the point.”

She slipped from his grasp and did a graceful twirl as he reached out to grab her. She opened the door to the booth and closed herself in. Walking over to the microphone, she put the headphones on and looked at him with trepidation.

“Sing something,” he laughed and leaned on the mixer console.

“I’m not a good singer,” she said and looked down.

“Lots of people can’t sing but with the right mixing they can become stars. You let me be the judge of your singing. Just pick a song,” he held his other hand out to her.

Brienne hesitated and cleared her throat. At the most, she could hold a tune and even then she could feel her voice crack a little when it was time to hit a high note. But they were just playing around and this wasn’t meant to be anything serious. She remembered a song she really liked in her senior year by one of her favorite bands Hooverphonic and she laughed. Okay, she could do this.

She could hear the guitar in her head and she leaned in close to the microphone.

“ _ You’ve got this strange effect on me. And I like it. _ ” She struggled singing in a high pitch voice but she was pleasantly surprised to discover that she didn’t sound that awful. “ _ You’ve got this strange effect on me. And like it. _ ” 

Tormund flashed a toothy grin and she giggled.

“ _ And I like the way you kiss me… don’t know if I should. But this feeling it’s love and I know it, that’s why I feel so gooooood. _ ”

She closed her eyes and swayed from side to side, listening to imaginary music.

“ _ You’ve got this strange effect on me. And I like it _ …” there was a smile on her face.

Just as she was beginning the final verse, the booth door opened and her eyes snapped open. She looked to her right and Tormund stood there watching her through hooded eyes. 

“The song isn’t finished,” she feigned innocence, gazing at him as he stepped closer to her.

He lifted the headphones from her head and pushed the microphone away from her face. She turned to face him and watched as he sat the headphones down on the tray. 

His hands clasped her face and he gently stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. Her eyes moved down to his thumb and she looked up to him again and slowly took it between her lips. Tormund watched, temporarily mesmerized by the her bold actions, his lips parting and tongue darting out between his lips.

Brienne captured his entire thumb in her mouth and slowly moved back and forth then pulled away, leaving a long wet trail on the digit. His eyes were narrowed and he seemed paralyzed. 

Didn’t he say she was being naughty? She’d show him exactly what naughty was.

Her hands moved down to the front of his jeans and she smiled when she cupped him and gave a gentle squeeze. He went slightly cross eyed before his eyes fluttered close and his lips were already falling apart. This hadn’t been her plan but now that she was here and she had him like this, she may as well.

No words were said as she unzipped his jeans, but the sounds of her movement were loud in the silent booth. His beard moved up and down swiftly as he swallowed and gulped loudly. 

Shoving his jeans down halfway and letting them fall the rest, Brienne took a step back and put her chin in her hand.

“Pull your boxers off,” she commanded.. She watched as he shoved his boxer briefs down his thighs quickly and then stood at full attention ...among other things.

Biting down on her bottom lip, Brienne stepped forward and took his length in her hand and kissed him passionately. When Tormund moved his hands up to try and grab hold of her, possibly to shove her against the wall, she moved a hand behind her back and slapped it away. 

“What are you doing?” He asked her with a bit of skepticism present in his voice. It only made her smile and she chose not to answer and slowly moved down to her knees.

“Oh  _ God _ ,” he was already making noises before she had even started.

Her hands moved over his thighs and he put both his hands in his hair, looking down at her. Licking her lips, Brienne slowly ran her tongue in a teasing circle around the tip of his length. Every single time she did this to him, he would take in a sharp breath like he was being doused in cold water and she loved it. It was her favorite thing about going down on him.

Her lips wrapped around his tip and slowly she worked her mouth over him. Her hands wrapped around the base of his length and she jerked her hand as she moved her mouth moved back and forth.

“ _ Fuck - goddamnit _ ,” he groaned loudly.

Pleased, she opened her eyes to watch him as she sucked, making the loudest noises she could. Tormund smoothed his hand over his face and covered his mouth, trying to hold back his groans but failing. She was appreciative of the noises he made, happy that he never hesitated to show her just how much he enjoyed her, too.

She pulled back and licked her licks and his eyes flew open to stare down at her. The look of complete surrender on his face was affirming. Here she was on her knees for him but holding him in the palm of her hand. Or her mouth, she thought with much internal humor.

A second later, she took him back into her mouth. As he began to instinctively push his hips forward, she let him, matching his thrusts and taking as much of him as she could inside her mouth. Her cheeks went hollow as she began to suck him harder and his groans only grew louder.

As she pulled back she gazed at the sight of his length, glistening with the wetness from her mouth and veins throbbing. Her fingers trailed the underside of him and released a low breath.

“You taste so good,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his tip, blowing cool air there.

“I’m gonna fucking come right now,” he growled.

Her other hand was placed on the side of his large thigh, gripping it tightly.

Slowly, she trailed her tongue over the entire length of him and wrapped her mouth back around him, twisting her wrist at the base while she continued the rhythm of moving her head back and forth.

He was getting close, she could tell. One hand moved to the back of her head and normally, she wouldn’t have been too fond of that but tonight, she let him grab a handful of hair behind her head as he worked his hips just a little faster. 

The motions soon became very jerky and she knew that was her cue to pull back. She began to rapidly stroke his length and then, just because she was feeling adventurous, she wrapped her mouth around his tip and took his load into her mouth. It was salty as hell and she decided immediately that this part wasn’t for her but Tormund was trembling and spilling himself into her mouth, singing her praises.

Brienne let him finish and waited patiently for hips hips to stop. Once they did, she stood up to her full height and he leaned in to kiss her but she smiled.

“Just wanted to keep you motivated,” she tapped the side of his face and left him standing in the booth looking completely and utterly shocked. She grabbed her purse from the couch and exited the studio. She had already planned for her Uber to arrive within the hour and she timed it perfectly, walking up to the car and hopping inside. The car drove off right as Tormund came out of the studio pulling his pants back up.

Feeling quite smug, Brienne wiped around her mouth, ignoring the looks of the Uber driver and sinking in the car trying hard not to laugh.

He was going to be working all week and really, all she wanted to do was give him the pleasure he was always so determined and successful at giving her. It was a great feeling, being able to satisfy him, watching those expressions change and switch on his face until he could no longer hold on. The control she had while she took him in his mouth was an exhilarating feeling. 

Once she got back to the apartment, Margaery and Sansa were waiting with smiles on their faces. She gave the ladies two thumbs up and they laughed loudly, needing no other news. Everyone respectfully went to their bedrooms for the night.

After Brienne prepped for bed, she finally pulled her phone out to look at the text messages she received from Tormund. She contemplated on whether or not she would answer them but she decided she would be good and give him a response, then she paused at the most recent text and got up from the bed.

It simply said  **_Please come open the front door_ ** and she knew exactly what this fool had done. She crept out of the bedroom, down the hall, and tried to open the door as quietly as she could.

He was standing there, holding on to the top of the door frame with one hand.

“That was singlehandedly, the sexiest fucking shit I’ve ever had happen to me in all my years of living.”

She looked off and laughed, finding it hard to look him in the eyes.

“Oh no,” Tormund stepped forward until he was standing close enough to wrap his arm around her waist. She let out a sound of surprise when his hand went to her behind and took a large handful, giving it a firm squeeze.

“You don’t get to be shy now,” he closed the door and perked his eyebrows.

“We can’t do it here, they’re going to hear.”

“I want all of San Francisco to hear, beautiful.” 

Brienne was given two seconds to lock the door before Tormund was practically pulling her into the bedroom. The door had barely closed before Tormund was tugging her nightgown over her head. He smacked her on the bottom when she walked over to the bed and Brienne turned around with a warning look, pointing at him with narrowed eyes.

“Oh? So only you get to be naughty now? Is that the way this goes?”

He pulled his shirt off and climbed into the bed to hover over her. 

“God, I missed you,” he leaned down to kiss her.

“It’s only been three days,” she teased, wrapping an arm around his neck.

The rest of the night was filled with their hushed sighs, gasps, moans, and groans.

When morning came, Brienne was the one to beat him waking up. All the time being cramped up in that studio and surviving on a total of four hours of sleep had taken its toll on Tormund. She slipped out of the bedroom and headed down the hall. In the kitchen, she was greeted by Margaery, sitting at the table with her work clothes on.

“I thought you had Thursdays off?” Brienne asked, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and pouring herself some coffee.

“Overtime,” Margaery said matter-of-factly. “Not that I got much sleep.”

The cup hit the countertop with a clang and Brienne made a face. She turned around and made a pained face.

“You’re fine! We told you, sex is fine as long as it’s…”

“Not on the couch or in the kitchen,” Brienne and Margaery said at the same time.

“Besides, Tormund’s growls ended up putting me to sleep. I think I’m getting used to my best friend fucking the lead singer of my favorite band.”

Heat creeped up her neck and she was sure her cheeks were turning red.

“Wow, you’re blushing! _ Blushing _ ! After you told me on that couch in our living room a week ago that he ate your  _ ass _ .” Margaery leaned forward and said it in a whisper, her fierce eyes pouring into Brienne’s. 

Brienne leaned back and waved a hand, “God, you make it sound so dirty.”

“Because it  _ is _ and I love it.” She smiled to herself, eyes lifting to the ceiling. “But I’ve got to go now because work and all. We should have lunch today, that is to say if you can get away from Tormund.”

“No worries, we’ll have lunch.” Brienne nodded. “Let’s see if we can get Sansa away from Pod though.” 

As both women sat over their coffee and made jokes about Sansa and Pod, Tormund walked down the hall and stopped when he spotted them sitting there. 

“Good morning,” his jeans were unzipped and Brienne took a long sip of coffee.

“Good morning,” Margaery said very casually. 

Oh, walk of shames were just the cutest when it wasn’t her, Brienne thought with a wry smile.


	15. The Death of Tywin Lannister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the chapter title showcases what's happening here, lol. Jaime sends Brienne a text and stirs up trouble unintentionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this thing on? Are people still reading this story? Well, call it an early Christmas gift. I was in a bit of a fanfic slump but Brienne/Tormund is my favorite couple so I'm never gonna stop writing them. Enjoy!

Brienne's work emails were slowly bringing themselves to the surface of her mind again. She'd finally admitted that her vacation was soon ending and had no choice but to face the inevitable and check the direst of the lot.

Sansa and Margaery were no longer taking three-hour lunch breaks to spend time with her and even her time with Tormund seemed to be shorter. Of course, he was working with the band and sometimes those rehearsals and studio sessions became fourteen-hour days. He even slept at the studio a few times.

Not ready to be back in the office wasn't the same as working though. Brienne welcomed the work when she would be sitting in the comfortable quiet of her solitude, glasses perched on the tip of her nose and the sounds of her little taps here and there of her stylus on her art tablet as she began drawing logos and pictures for some of the clients that had been sent her way. Some of them of course, not specific at all with the vaguest of instructions that ended up being spent in countless and very  _ pointless  _ email conversations that could have been resolved very easily had they just read the contract Brienne took her time out of the day to type up… but that was the business of freelancing.

Her phone dinged, and a smile came to her face. It literally could have been Sansa, Margaery, or Tormund and her reaction would have been the same. Her face fell when she caught sight of it.

Like a slap in the face, really. A cold one.  Ah yes, that was the feeling and because she didn’t like that feeling the text message gave her, she refused to acknowledge it anymore. She quickly put the phone face down on the living room table and decided that would be the end of it.

Brienne picked up the tablet and began to draw again.

That was, however, a lie. The moment Sansa and Margaery came home she was showing them the phone, her cheeks hot and her stomach tense. Somewhere between that message and their arrival home, she’d developed one of those nagging little headaches in the back of her head. It wasn’t too bad, but it was enough to let her know that it was very much there and was going to be there until her nerves let up.

"His father died?" Sansa was holding Brienne's phone.

Margaery's eyes had narrowed, and she was pacing and pointing.

"The absolute nerve of him!" Pace. Pace. Point. "He hasn't spoken to you in two months!" Pace. Point. Pace. "And then he sends you a message telling you about his father dying." She stopped after this and put her hands on her hips.

"Well, his father died. Margaery, it'd be weird if he  _ didn't _ tell me what happened."

"Oh, who gives a fuck, honestly?" Margaery tossed a hand up and Brienne gasped.

"You haven't replied to this message yet," Sansa looked down at Brienne's phone, ignoring Margaery's outburst. "That's good. Have you thought at all about how you're going to respond to him?"

"You're going to say, 'sorry for your loss' and then block this bastard's number is what you're going to do," Margaery's cheeks were a tint of pink now.

Brienne looked down, eyes wide. She went silent and stayed that way for so long that eventually Margaery had walked over and sat next to her.

"Do you want my advice, Brienne?" Her soft tone was a complete contrast to the angry shouting she had just done only a minute ago.

Brienne looked at her and shrugged. The advice was desired in ways Margaery and Sansa would never know. What she would have preferred, given the circumstance, was for them to tell her what to do and then do it for her. That way, she could avoid any responsibility of this entirely.

"I think," Margaery took Brienne's hand in hers, the small and delicate one a contrast to her large, calloused one. "I think you should do what you feel is best for you."

Oh, that was just fantastic! Brienne groaned and jerked her hand away from Margaery's so that she could bury her face in her hands. She let out a loud whine and shook her head.

"What am I going to tell Tormund?"

"You're going to tell him whatever you want to tell him." Brienne jerked her head upward with a frown at Sansa, but the woman continued on, "because he isn't your boyfriend and you haven't made any plans to do so. Not only that, you and Jaime have a long history. If you feel like you need to see him and lend your shoulder because his father has passed, then I support it."

"I don't," Margaery said, very steadfast in her earlier thoughts.

"I know you don't," Brienne said with a sigh, "And maybe he doesn't deserve the courtesy, but it wouldn't feel right if I didn't at least check in on him. We were friends at some point, you know?"

" _ Were _ ," Margaery replied very pointedly.

Brienne nodded her head. Sansa sat next to her and rested her head on Brienne's shoulder.

"Does this mean the vacation is ending?"

Brienne took a deep breath and sighed loudly. There was the answer right there. Sansa handed the phone to her and Brienne opened the message and began to thumb the screen slowly.

**_Sorry to hear the sad news. I'll pay my respects to you this weekend. I'm out of town._ **

His reply:

**_No need to do that Bri. I just wanted you to know._ **

"See, there you go," Margaery piped up.

"His relationship with his father was terrible but that still doesn't mean he isn't sad about it, Margaery."

They all went quiet again.

"You know what I think? That man was so horrible and fucked up that it just spread to his children. One's a spineless man-baby, one is an alcoholic, and one is a black widow."

"We don't know that she had her husband killed," Brienne sounded absolutely scandalized at the very notion.

"You mean to tell me you don't think Cersei Baratheon didn't kill her abusive, controlling, misogynistic CEO husband? I would," she rolled her eyes. "But that is neither here nor there and clearly none of my business."

Sansa had her chin in her hand, staring off into space.

"No," she said dreamily, "I've met her and her husband only once and I'm certain she had him killed."

All three women began to laugh very loudly and so hard that Brienne was doing that loud hiccupping thing she did when she couldn't control herself. They collapsed on the couch together, still laughing very loudly.

"Okay fine, fine, she's a black widow," Brienne was coming down from her laughter, waving her hands in a signal of giving in. "I suppose that's why Jamie and Tyrion are terrified of her. I personally find her frightening as well."

"And you went to family dinners with Jaime. On purpose!"

Brienne busted into fits of laughter again. The weird feelings in her stomach turned into tightness from laughing so hard. That was it, she was officially over Jaime Lannister. She was now at a place where she could laugh about him. What felt like a ten-year mistake could now be identified as lesson in patience and understanding.

Of course, she wished less of her time had been used in the process of this learning moment, but she was fine. She was finally fine.

"Just because something's expensive that doesn't mean it's better," Brienne waggled a finger making Sansa and Margaery both laugh.

The decision, she decided, was going to be an easy one. Both Sansa and Margaery had gone uncharacteristically quiet when Brienne decided against sending him another text message but opting to call instead. Tension coiled in her stomach like a spring just before it pops loose and she instantly decided that she did not want to hear his live speaking voice. Being over someone didn't mean that the jumbled messes that made up feelings and emotions immediately went away either.

All the same, she had to do this. Not for Jaime, but for herself.

It rang and rang until it went to voicemail and relieved, Brienne took a deep breath.

"Hi Jaime, it's Brienne - which I'm sure you knew that but still," she laughed nervously. "I called to tell you that I'm really sorry for your loss. I know that you and Tywin's relationship wasn't always on the best of terms, but he was your father and I'm sure he loved you in the best way that he could." She paused and looked over to see Margaery and Sansa staring at her with their beautiful eyes, making her love them so much more than she already did if that was even possible.

"And I know that you loved him, too. If you need to reach out to me, I'm here. Despite anything that's happened in our past you should know that I was your friend first and I'll always be here for you. I'm only one phone call away."

Maybe, six months ago or even a month ago, she would have done it. She would have taken the backseat despite her feelings about Jaime and comforted him in this time. Stopped everything she was doing to reach out to him and make sure everything was okay even if  _ she  _ wasn't okay.

But it wasn't six months ago, not even a month ago. It was today. And today, Brienne was putting herself first.

After she ended the call, she was met to the cheers of both Sansa and Margaery.

"Oh wait, I thought you were on board with me leaving California and heading back to Texas to see him?" Brienne narrowed her eyes at Sansa.

With a shrug, Sansa replied, "Oh I was going to support you no matter what even if I did think it was a stupid idea."

"I can't believe he let it go to voicemail," Margaery mused.

"Oh no, he's probably entertaining all of his father's friends or dealing with family," Brienne replied.

"His father had no friends, Brienne. You and I both know that."

Brienne tried very hard not to do it, but she snorted, and the snort became laughter and soon the trio was laughing again.

Later in the night, Brienne sat cross legged on Tormund's bed, her laptop in front of her and bent over awkwardly reading through emails. The shower turned off and Tormund came walking into the living room, burly and red - apparently the way Brienne liked it. She was already closing her laptop and pulling her glasses from her face.

"I just cleaned myself off, woman!" Tormund laughed when he caught sight of her practically getting undressed.

"Well nobody told you to come walking into this bedroom smelling so good all half naked. I mean, what did you expect?"

Tormund laughed and grabbed a pair of boxers from the bedside table and Brienne pouted, reaching over and playfully yanking at his towel. His laughter was deep and rumbling, from the belly. Brienne felt her chest tighten at the sound.

"It's been a long day, love. I just want to lay in this bed and sleep. I've been up since four in the morning."

Brienne sighed, though she was only pretending to be upset. A cuddle would suit her just fine. She patted the side of the bed and watched openly lecherous as he slid the boxer briefs up over his thick legs and backside. She locked eyes with him and bit down on her bottom lip.

"I feel like a man," Brienne teased as Tormund climbed into bed and pulled the covers over them. She snuggled up against his back as he turned on his side and turned the lights off. "Trying to get you to take your knickers off so we can have sex."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you," he looked over his shoulder at her.

She giggled and kissed him on his shoulder, “The  _ worst _ .”

Decidedly happy that she was the big spoon tonight, she held on to him propped her leg over his, lifting it slightly for comfort. She closed her eyes and smiled.

Tormund began to hum and then sing softly, not something he had ever done or what she was familiar with. Brienne had been accustomed to the raw, growling voice that she'd heard on so many records now that Sansa and Margaery had pulled her into The Wildlings’ rabbit hole. His voice, his real one, she decided as he softly crooned  _ Can't Help Falling in Love _ . He was definitely giving Elvis a run for his money.

She nestled against him, smiling in the darkness of his bedroom. Then he cut it abruptly short during the like a river flows bit and Brienne's head snapped up.

"What happened? I was enjoying that! Are you asleep?"

Tormund stayed quiet for a moment, then finally and very softly, "Are you not wearing any underwear?"

Naughtiness aside, Brienne still found herself still getting hot in the neck at certain things.  He shifted around in the bed and turned, gripping her leg so it was still in its same spot, except now it was lying across his waist.

"Well I just didn't see the point, really. Apart from Shark Week, I haven't needed to wear underwear. Even during Shark Week, it really didn't seem like there was a point was there?"

"Oh shit, it's only blood and besides, you liked it just as much as I did.

"Fair enough but you understand my point, don't you?"

"I do," he laughed and gently tapped her leg.

"But I understand that you're tired," she stroked the side of his face and snuggled a little closer to him, intentionally pressing herself against him.

"I'm hard already, can you fucking imagine?" Tormund chuckled, and it sounded sleepy.

"Listen," Brienne put her hand on his chest and kissed the top of his nose. "Sleep it off and get your rest. I'm not going anywhere tonight. We can finish this in the morning."

Now it was Tormund making the noises of protest.

"Climb on my lap, woman. I'm not gonna sleep until I feel you now and you know it."

Not needing to be told twice, Brienne did just that and placed her hands on his chest. Tormund's body vibrated with laughter underneath her and grabbed her wrists and slowly pulled her down, so their lips were in contact. Slow, sweet kisses lingered between them and his hips slowly lifted from the mattress with Brienne instinctively meeting his. This lasted for a while, maybe too long for Tormund because he paused his movements and playfully tugged at Brienne's bottom lip.

"We can't do this for too long love. You remember what happened the last time."

Brienne's response was to push her hips down.

The last time, which was one of those stolen moments just in his kitchen consisted of Brienne pushing her backside against him long enough to get a reaction that had them both laughing with Tormund needing to wash up and change clothes after some premature fun.

"Pull it out," she whispered against his lips. Her own lips peppered kisses all over his face as he shifted around underneath her.

A light blared in the darkness and her phone began to buzz loudly on the bedside table, slightly distracting them. Tormund paused, and Brienne looked to her right.

"What time is it?" His voice was hoarse with lust and his erection was thumping against her inner thigh.

Brienne picked up the phone and rolled her eyes. Was he serious? It was almost midnight and therefore nearly two a.m. where he was.

"Who the fuck  _ is _ that?" Tormund was not watching the phone, his attention specifically on Brienne.

"It's Jaime."

"That asshole ex-boyfriend of yours? What the hell's he doing calling you at this hour of the night?"

Brienne didn't respond, looking at her phone watching it ring. Finally, after it stopped she turned back to Tormund.

"His father passed away and the relationship was ...strained. I suppose he just needs a kind word."

Tormund perked his eyebrows at Brienne and she sighed.

"I'm putting it back down," there was slight irritation in her voice.

"What I'm not understand-" Tormund grumbled as the phone began to ring again. "Are you goddamn kidding me?"

Brienne was still holding on to the phone.

"Tormund, I know you're frustrated but you have to understand that Jaime and I have a long history with each other. We were best friends way before we became anything else. Maybe that's hard for you to understand."

"Well what is that supposed to mean?" Tormund propped up on his elbows.

Brienne didn't want to fight with him about this so she chose instead, to ignore him. The phone stopped ringing for a moment then buzzed again.

"Either answer it or turn the fucking thing off, Brienne."

"You watch how you speak to me!" Brienne glared at Tormund and climbed off him, holding on to the phone.  The room went quiet and her phone buzzed again. In her anger, she rejected the call and turned the phone off then slammed it on the bedside table. "Are you happy now? Does that appease you?"

The heat in her neck was much different than previously. She could feel the threat angry tears stinging behind her eyes. Tormund laid there for a moment then slowly sat up and she could feel his eyes on her back, even in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean it like that, but you know I hate that guy. On principle. Even if he was your friend, I don't think he's very deserving of it. And you and I, we were kinda’ having a moment." He paused and stammered for a little bit. "It just seemed like the guy was interrupting the last few days we were going to have together even if it's not his fault."

Anger had drifted and now amusement took place.

"Are you jealous?" She asked trying not to laugh.

"You bet I am! Guy had you for ten years and still thinks he can just call whenever he wants. I need that in my life, too." He laughed and wrapped an arm around Brienne pulling her close to him.

"You have no need to be jealous, Tormund. I am completely over whatever was there. And besides, I wasn't going to answer that phone."

"What were you going to do then?" His voice was low again and just like that, the lust had returned.

Brienne took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his ear, "Pull it out and I'll show you what I was going to do." And for good measure, her teeth gently nibbled on the tip of his ear lobe.

And naturally, he pulled it out and that was well, that.


End file.
